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OGICAIS^^ 


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THE  GOSPEL  ACCORDING  TO 


ST.    MATTHEW 


CHAPTERS    XVIII.    TO    XXVIII. 


BY 

ALEXANDER    MACLAREN 

D.D.,  LiTT.D. 


^^•:#jn.it  ^^S^ 


NEW  YORK 

A.  C.  ARMSTRONG  AND  SON 

3  &  5  WEST  EIGHTEENTH  STREET 

LONDON :  HODDER  AND  STOUGHTON 

MCMVI 


CONTENTS 

PAOB 

The  Law  of  Precedence  in  the  Kingdom  (Matt,  xviii. 

1-14)    .......         1 

Self-Mutilation  fob  Self-Pbeservation  (Matt,  xviii.  8, 

R.  v,^  •««*•  ••" 

The  Lost  Sheep  and  the  Seeking  Shephebd   (Matt. 

xviii.  12)  .  .  .  .  •  .19 

The  Pebsistence  op  Thwabted  Love  (Matt,  xviii.  13; 

Luke  XV.  4)      .  .  .  .  .  .29 

FoBQivEN  AND  Unfobgiving  (Matt,  xviii.  22)  .  .  ,    37 

The  Requibements  of  the  King  (Matt.  xix.  16-26)  .       46 

Neabest  to  Chbist  (Matt.  xx.  23)  .  .  .  .56 

■The  Sebvant-Lobd  and  His  Servants  (Matt.  xx.  28)      .        71 

What  the  Historic  Chbist  taught  about  His  Death 

(Matt.  XX.  28)  .  .  .  ,  .80 


» 


vi  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW 

The  Coming  op  the  King  to  His  Palace  (Matt.  xxi.  1-16)       89 
A  New  Kind  op  King  (Matt.  xxi.  4,  5)  .  •  .97 

The  Vineyard  and  its  Keepers  (Matt.  xxi.  33-46) 
The  Stone  op  Stumbling  (Matt.  xxi.  44)   .  • 

Two  Ways  op  Despising  God's  Feast  (Matt.  xxii.  1-14) 


The    Tables    Turned  :    The    Questioners    Questioned 
(Matt,  xxii.  34  46)         .... 

The  King's  Farewell  (Matt,  xxiii.  27-39)  . 

Two  Forms  of  One  Saying  (Matt.  xxiv.  13,  R.V. ;  Luke 
xxi.  19)  .  «  .  .  .  . 

The  Carrion  and  the  Vultures  (Matt.  xxiv.  28) 
Watching  pob  the  King  (Matt.  xxiv.  42-51)  • 

The  Waiting  Maidens  (Matt.  xxv.  1-13)    . 
Dying  Lamps  (Matt.  xxv.  8)  .  .  . 

'  They  that  were  Ready  '  (Matt.  xxv.  10)  . 

Traders  por  the  Master  (Matt.  xxv.  14-30)  , 

Why  the  Talent  was  Buried  (Matt.  xxv.  24,  25) 


107 


116 


126 


135 
139 

148 
157 
166 
175 
181 
189 
195 
205 


CONTENTS  vii 

PAGB 

The  King  on  His  Judgment  Throne  (Matt.  xxv.  31-46)  .  213 
The  Defence  of  Uncalculatinq  Love  (Matt.  xxvi.  6-16)  221 
The  New  Passover  (Matt.  xxvi.  17-30)        .  .  .     225 

'Is  it  I?'  (Matt.  xxvi.  22,  25;  John  xiii.  25)  .  .      232 

'This  Ctjp' (Matt.  xxvi.  27,  28)         .  .  .  .243 

* 

'Until  that  Day'  (Matt.  xxvi.  29)  .  .  .252 

Gethsemane,  the  Oil-Press  (Matt.  xxvi.  36-46)    .  .      261 

The  Last  Pleading  of  Love  (Matt.  xxvi.  50)       .  .     270 

The  Real  High  Priest   and   His   Counterfeit  (Matt. 

xxvi.  57-68)      .  .  .  .  .  .286 

Jesus  Charged  with  Blasphemy  (Matt.  xxvi.  65)  .      290 

'  See  Thou  to  That  ! '  (Matt,  xxvii.  4,  24)  .  .  .299 

The  Sentence   which   Condemned  the   Judges   (Matt. 

xxvii.  11-26)     ,  .  ,  .  .  .310 

The  Crucifixion  (Matt,  xxvii.  33-50)  ,  ;  ,      317 

The  Blind  Watchers  at  the  Cross  (Matt,  xxvii.  36)     .     325 


viii  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW 

PAOB 

Taunts  Turning  to  Testimonies  (Matt,  xxvii.  41-43)  ,      332 

The  Veil  Rent  (Matt,  xxvii.  51)     .  .  .  .341 

The  Prince  of  Life  (Matt,  xxviii.  1-15)     .  .  .      350 

The  Risen  Lord's  Greetings  and  Gifts  (Matt,  xxviii.  9; 

John  XX.  19)   .  .  .  .  .  .360 

On  the  Mountain  (Matt,  xxviii.  16,  17 ;  1  Cor.  xv.  6)        ,      369 


THE  LAW  OF  PRECEDENCE  IN  THE  KINGDOM 

'  At  the  same  time  came  the  disciples  unto  Jesus,  saying,  Who  is  the  greatest  in 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  ?  2.  And  Jesus  called  a  little  child  unto  Him,  and  set  him 
in  the  midst  of  them,  3.  And  said,  Verily  I  say  unto  you.  Except  ye  be  converted, 
and  become  as  little  children,  ye  shall  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  4. 
Whosoever  therefore  shall  humble  himself  as  this  little  child,  the  same  is  greatest 
in  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  5.  And  whoso  shall  receive  one  such  little  child  in  My 
name  receiveth  Me.  6.  But  whoso  shall  offend  one  of  these  little  ones  which 
believe  in  Me,  it  were  better  for  him  that  a  millstone  were  hanged  about  his  neck, 
and  that  he'were  drowned  in  the  depth  of  the  sea.  7.  Woe  unto  the  world  because 
of  offences !  for  it  must  needs  be  that  offences  come ;  but  woe  to  that  man  by 
whom  the  offence  cometh !  8.  Wherefore  if  thy  hand  or  thy  foot  offend  thee,  cut 
them  off,  and  cast  them  from  thee ;  it  is  better  for  thee  to  enter  into  life  halt  or 
maimed,  rather  than  having  two  hands  or  two  feet  to  be  cast  into  everlasting  fire. 
9.  And  if  thine  eye  offend  thee,  pluck  it  out,  and  cast  it  from  thee  :  it  is  better  for 
thee  to  enter  into  life  with  one  eye,  rather  than  having  two  eyes  to  be  cast  into  hell 
fire.  10.  Take  heed  that  ye  despise  not  one  of  these  little  ones ;  for  I  say  unto  you, 
That  in  heaven  their  angels  do  always  behold  the  face  of  My  Father  which  is  in 
heaven.  11.  For  the  Son  of  Man  is  come  to  save  that  which  was  lost.  12.  How 
think  ye?  if  a  man  have  an  hundred  sheep,  and  one  of  them  be  gone  astray,  doth 
he  not  leave  the  ninety  and  nine,  and  goeth  into  the  mountains,  and  seeketh  that 
which  is  gone  astray  ?  13.  And  if  so  be  that  ho  find  it,  verily  I  say  unto  you,  he 
rejoiceth  more  of  that  sheep,  than  of  the  ninety  and  nine  which  went  not  astray, 
14.  Even  so  it  is  not  the  will  of  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven,  that  one  of  these 
little  ones  should  perish.'— Matt,  xviii.  1-14. 

Mark  tells  us  that  the  disciples,  as  they  journeyed, 
had  been  squabbling  about  pre-eminence  in  the  king- 
dom, and  that  this  conversation  was  brought  on  by  our 
Lord's  question  as  to  the  subject  of  their  dispute.  It 
seems  at  first  sight  to  argue  singular  insensibility  that 
the  first  effect  of  His  reiterated  announcement  of  His 
sufferings  should  have  been  their  quarrelling  for  the 
lead ;  but  their  behaviour  is  intelligible  if  we  suppose 
that  they  regarded  the  half-understood  prophecies  of 
His  passion  as  indicating  the  commencement  of  the 
short  conflict  which  was  to  end  in  His  Messianic  reign. 
So  it  was  time  for  them  to  be  getting  ready  and 
settling  precedence.     The  form  of  their  question,  in 

VOL.  III.  A 


2        GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xviii. 

Matthew,  connects  it  with  the  miracle  of  the  coin  in 
the  fish's  mouth,  in  which  there  was  a  very  plain  asser- 
tion of  Christ's  royal  dignity,  and  a  distinguishing 
honour  given  to  Peter.  Probably  the  'then'  of  the 
question  means,  Since  Peter  is  thus  selected,  are  we 
to  look  to  him  as  foremost?  Their  conception  of  the 
kingdom  and  of  rank  in  it  is  frankly  and  entirely 
earthly.  There  are  to  be  graded  dignities,  and  these 
are  to  depend  on  His  mere  will.  Our  Lord  not  only 
answers  the  letter  of  their  question,  but  cuts  at  the 
root  of  the  temper  which  inspired  it. 

I.  He  shows  the  conditions  of  entrance  into  and 
eminence  in  His  kingdom  by  a  living  example.  There 
were  always  children  at  hand  round  Him,  when  He 
wanted  them.  Their  quick  instinct  for  pure  and  loving 
souls  drew  them  to  Him ;  and  this  little  one  was  not 
afraid  to  be  taken  by  the  hand,  and  to  be  afterwards 
caught  up  in  His  arms,  and  pressed  to  His  heart.  One 
does  not  wonder  that  the  legend  that  he  was  Ignatius 
the  martyr  should  have  been  current ;  for  surely  the 
remembrance  of  that  tender  clasping  arm  and  gentle 
breast  would  not  fade  nor  be  fruitless.  The  disciples 
had  made  very  sure  that  they  were  to  be  in  the  king- 
dom, and  that  the  only  question  concerning  them  was 
how  high  up  in  it  they  were  each  to  be.  Christ's  answer 
is  like  a  dash  of  cold  water  to  that  confidence.  It  is, 
in  effect, '  Greatest  in  the  kingdom  !  Make  sure  that 
you  go  in  at  all,  first ;  which  you  will  never  do,  so  long 
as  you  keep  your  present  ambitious  minds.' 

Verse  3  lays  down  the  condition  of  entrance  into  the 
kingdom,  from  which  necessarily  follows  the  condition 
of  supremacy  in  it.  What  a  child  is  naturally,  and 
without  effort  or  merit,  by  reason  of  age  and  position, 
we  must  become,  if  we  are  to  pass  the  narrow  portal 


vs.  l-U]    THE  LAW  OF  PRECEDENCE        3 

which  admits  into  the  large  room.  That  *  becoming '  is 
impossible  without  a  revolution  in  us.  •  Be  converted ' 
is  corrected,  in  the  Revised  Version,  into  'turn,'  and 
rightly ;  for  there  is  in  the  word  a  distinct  reference  to 
the  temper  of  the  disciples  as  displayed  by  their  ques- 
tion. As  long  as  they  cherished  it  they  could  not  even 
get  inside,  to  say  nothing  of  winning  promotion  to 
dignities  in  the  kingdom.  Their  very  question  con- 
demned them  as  incapable  of  entrance.  So  there  must 
be  a  radical  change,  not  unaccompanied,  of  course, 
with  repentance,  but  mainly  consisting  in  the  sub- 
stitution of  the  child's  temper  for  theirs.  What  is  the 
temper  thus  enjoined?  We  are  to  see  here  neither 
the  entirely  modern  and  shallow  sentimental  way  of 
looking  at  childhood,  in  which  popular  writers  indulge, 
nor  the  doctrine  of  its  innocence.  It  is  not  Christ's 
teaching,  either  that  children  are  innocent,  or  that 
men  enter  the  kingdom  by  making  themselves  so. 
But  the  child  is,  by  its  very  position,  lowly  and  modest, 
and  makes  no  claims,  and  lives  by  instinctive  con-  • 
fidence,  and  does  not  care  about  honours,  and  has  these 
qualities  which  in  us  are  virtues,  and  is  not  puffed  up 
by  possessing  them.  That  is  the  ideal  which  is  realised 
more  generally  in  the  child  than  analogous  ideals 
are  in  mature  manhood.  Such  simplicity,  modesty, 
humility,  must  be  ours.  We  must  be  made  small  ere 
we  can  enter  that  door.  And  as  is  the  requirement  for 
entrance,  so  is  it  for  eminence.  The  child  does  not 
humble  himself,  but  is  humble  by  nature  ;  but  we  must 
humble  ourselves  if  we  would  be  great. 

Christ  implies  that  there  are  degrees  in  the  kingdom. 
It  has  a  nobility,  but  of  such  a  kind  that  there  may  be 
many  greatest ;  for  the  principle  of  rank  there  is  lowli- 
ness.   We  rise  by  sinking.     The  deeper  our  conscious- 


4       GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xviii. 

ness  of  our  own  unworthiness  and  weakness,  the  more 
capable  are  we  of  receiving  the  divine  gifts,  and  there- 
fore the  more  fully  shall  we  receive  them.  Rivers  run 
in  the  hollows ;  the  mountain-tops  are  dry.  God  works 
with  broken  reeds,  and  the  princes  in  His  realm  are 
beggars  taken  from  the  dunghill.  A  lowliness  which 
made  itself  lowly  for  the  sake  of  eminence  would  miss 
its  aim,  for  it  would  not  be  lowliness.  The  desire  to 
be  foremost  must  be  cast  out,  in  order  that  it  may  be 
fulfilled. 

II.  The  question  has  been  answered,  and  our  Lord 
passes  to  other  thoughts  rising  out  of  His  answer. 
Verses  5  and  6  set  forth  antithetically  our  duties  to  His 
little  ones.  He  is  not  now  speaking  of  the  child  who 
served  as  a  living  parable  to  answer  the  question,  but 
of  men  who  have  made  themselves  like  the  child,  as  is 
plain  from  the  emphatic  '  one  such  child,'  and  from 
verse  6  ('  which  believe  on  Me '). 

The  subject,  then,  of  these  verses  is  the  blessedness 
of  recognising  and  welcoming  Christlike  lowly  be- 
lievers, and  the  fatal  effect  of  the  opposite  conduct. 
To  •  receive  one  such  little  child  in  My  name '  is  just  to 
have  a  sympathetic  appreciation  of,  and  to  be  ready 
to  welcome  to  heart  and  home,  those  who  are  lowly  in 
their  own  and  in  the  world's  estimate,  but  princes 
of  Christ's  court  and  kingdom.  Such  welcome  and 
furtherance  will  only  be  given  by  one  who  himself  has 
the  same  type  of  character  in  some  degree.  He  who 
honours  and  admires  a  certain  kind  of  excellence  has 
the  roots  of  it  in  himself.  A  possible  artist  lies  in  him 
who  thrills  at  the  sight  or  hearing  of  fair  things 
painted  or  sung.  Our  admiration  is  an  index  of  our 
aspiration,  and  our  aspiration  is  a  prophecy  of  our 
attainment.    So  it  will  be  a  little  one's  heart  which 


vs.  l-U]    THE  LAW  OF  PRECEDENCE        5 

will  welcome  the  little  ones,  and  a  lover  of  Christ  who 
receives  them  in  His  name.  The  reception  includes  all 
forms  of  sympathy  and  aid.  '  In  My  name '  is  equiva- 
lent to  'for  the  sake  of  My  revealed  character,'  and 
refers  both  to  the  receiver  and  to  the  received.  The 
blessedness  of  such  reception,  so  far  as  the  receiver  is 
concerned,  is  not  merely  that  he  thereby  comes  into 
happy  relations  with  Christ's  foremost  servants,  but 
that  he  gets  Christ  Himself  into  his  heart.  If  with 
true  appreciation  of  the  beauty  of  such  a  childlike 
disposition,  I  open  my  heart  or  my  hand  to  its  pos- 
sessor, I  do  thereby  enlarge  my  capacity  for  my  own 
possession  of  Christ,  who  dwells  in  His  child,  and  who 
comes  with  him  where  He  is  welcomed.  There  is  no 
surer  way  of  securing  Him  for  our  own  than  the 
loving  reception  of  His  children.  Whoso  lodges  the 
King's  favourites  will  not  be  left  unvisited  by  the 
King.  To  recognise  and  reverence  the  greatest  in  the 
kingdom  is  to  be  oneself  a  member  of  their  company, 
and  a  sharer  in  their  prerogatives. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  antithesis  of  'receiving'  is 
*  causing  to  stumble,'  by  which  is  meant  giving  occasion 
for  moral  fall.  That  would  be  done  by  contests  about 
pre-eminence,  by  arrogance,  by  non-recognition.  The 
atmosphere  of  carnality  and  selfishness  in  which  the 
disciples  were  moving,  as  their  question  showed,  would 
stifle  the  tender  life  of  any  lowly  believer  who  found 
himself  in  it;  and  they  were  not  only  injuring  them- 
selves, but  becoming  stumbling-blocks  to  others,  by 
their  ambition.  How  much  of  the  present  life  of 
average  Christians  is  condemned  on  the  same  ground ! 
It  is  a  good  test  of  our  Christian  character  to  ask — 
would  it  help  or  hinder  a  lowly  believer  to  live  beside 
us?      How   many    professing    Christians    are    really, 


6        GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xviii. 

though  unconsciously,  doing  their  utmost  to  pull  down 
their  more  Christlike  brethren  to  their  own  low  level ! 
The  worldliness  and  selfish  ambitions  of  the  Church  are 
responsible  for  the  stumbling  of  many  who  would  else 
have  been  of  Christ's  'little  ones.'  But  perhaps  we 
are  rather  to  think  of  deliberate  and  consciously  laid 
stumbling-blocks.  Knowingly  to  try  to  make  a  good 
man  fall,  or  to  stain  a  more  than  usually  pure  Christian 
character,  is  surely  the  very  height  of  malice,  and  pre- 
supposes such  a  deadly  hatred  of  goodness  and  of 
Christ  that  no  fate  can  be  worse  than  the  possession 
of  such  a  temper.  To  be  flung  into  the  sea,  like  a  dog, 
with  a  stone  round  his  neck,  would  be  better  for  a  man 
than  to  live  to  do  such  a  thing.  The  deed  itself,  apart 
from  any  other  future  retribution,  is  its  own  punish- 
ment ;  yet  our  Lord's  solemn  words  not  only  point  to 
such  a  future  retribution,  which  is  infinitely  more 
terrible  than  the  miserable  fate  described  would  be 
for  the  body,  but  to  the  consequences  of  the  act,  as  so 
bad  in  its  blind  hatred  of  the  highest  type  of  character, 
and  in  its  conscious  preference  of  evil,  as  well  as  so 
fatal  in  its  consequences,  that  it  were  better  to  die 
drowned  than  to  live  so. 

III.  Verses  10-14  set  forth  the  honour  and  dignity  of 
Christ's  'little  ones.'  Clearly  the  application  of  the 
designation  in  these  closing  verses  is  exclusively  to  His 
lowly  followers.  The  warning  not  to  despise  them  is 
needed  at  all  times,  and,  perhaps,  seldom  more,  even 
by  Christians,  than  now,  when  so  many  causes  induce 
a  far  too  high  estimate  of  the  world's  great  ones,  and 
modest,  humble  godliness  looks  as  dull  and  sober  as 
some  russet-coated  little  bird  among  gorgeous  cocka- 
toos and  birds  of  paradise.  The  world's  standard  is 
only  too  current  in  the  Church ;  and  it  needs  a  spirit 


Ys.1-14]    THE  LAW  OF  PRECEDENCE        7 

kept  in  harmony  with  Christ's  spirit,  and  some  degree 
of  the  child-nature  in  ourselves,  to  preserve  us  from 
overlooking  the  delicate  hidden  beauties  and  unworldly- 
greatness  of  His  truest  disciples. 

The  exhortation  is  enforced  by  two  considerations, — 
a  glimpse  into  heaven,  and  a  parable.  Fair  interpreta- 
tion can  scarcely  deny  that  Christ  here  teaches  that 
His  children  are  under  angel-guardianship.  We  should 
neither  busy  ourselves  in  curious  inferences  from  His 
reticent  words,  nor  try  to  blink  their  plain  meaning, 
but  rather  mark  their  connection  and  purpose  here. 
He  has  been  teaching  that  pre-eminence  belongs  to  the 
childlike  spirit.  He  here  opens  a  door  into  the  court 
of  the  heavenly  King,  and  shows  us  that,  as  the  little 
ones  are  foremost  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  so  the 
angels  who  watch  over  them  are  nearest  the  throne  in 
heaven  itself.  The  representation  is  moulded  on  the 
usages  of  Eastern  courts,  and  similar  language  in  the 
Old  Testament  describes  the  principal  courtiers  as  '  the 
men  who  see  the  King's  face  continually.'  So  high  is 
the  honour  in  which  the  little  ones  are  held,  that  the 
highest  angels  are  set  to  guard  them,  and  whatever 
may  be  thought  of  them  on  earth,  the  loftiest  of 
creatures  are  glad  to  serve  and  keep  them. 

Following  the  Revised  Version  we  omit  verse  11.  If 
it  were  genuine,  the  connection  would  be  that  such 
despising  contradicted  the  purpose  of  Christ's  mission  ; 
and  the  '  for '  would  refer  back  to  the  injunction,  not 
to  the  glimpse  into  heaven  which  enforced  it. 

The  exhortation  is  further  confirmed  by  the  parable 
of  the  ninety  and  nine,  which  is  found,  slightly  modified 
in  form  and  in  another  connection,  in  Luke  xv.  Its 
point  here  is  to  show  the  importance  of  the  little  ones 
as  the  objects  of  the  seeking  love  of  God,  and  as  so 


8       GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xviii. 

precious  to  Him  that  their  recovery  rejoices  His  heart. 
Of  course,  if  verse  11  be  genuine,  the  Shepherd  is 
Christ ;  but,  if  we  omit  it,  the  application  of  the  parable 
in  verse  14  as  illustrating  the  loving  will  of  God  be- 
comes more  direct.  In  that  case  God  is  the  owner  of 
the  sheep.  Christ  does  not  emphasise  His  own  love  or 
share  in  the  work,  reference  to  which  was  not  relevant 
to  His  purpose,  but,  leaving  that  in  shadow,  casts  all  the 
light  on  the  loving  divine  will,  which  counts  the  little 
ones  as  so  precious  that,  if  even  one  of  them  wanders,  all 
heaven's  powers  are  sent  forth  to  find  and  recover  it. 
The  reference  does  not  seem  to  be  so  much  to  the  one 
great  act  by  which,  in  Christ's  incarnation  and  sacrifice, 
a  sinful  world  has  been  sought  and  redeemed,  as  to  the 
numberless  acts  by  which  God,  in  His  providence  and 
grace,  restores  the  souls  of  those  humble  ones  if  ever 
they  go  astray.  For  the  connection  requires  that  the 
wandering  sheep  here  should,  when  it  wanders,  be  *  one 
of  these  little  ones  ' ;  and  the  parable  is  introduced  to 
illustrate  the  truth  that,  because  they  belong  to  that 
number,  the  least  of  them  is  too  precious  to  God  to  be 
allowed  to  wander  away  and  be  lost.  They  have  for 
their  keepers  the  angels  of  the  presence ;  they  have 
God  Himself,  in  His  yearning  love  and  manifold 
methods  of  restoration,  to  look  for  them,  if  ever  they 
are  lost,  and  to  bring  them  back  to  the  fold.  There- 
fore, '  see  that  ye  despise  not  one  of  these  little  ones,' 
each  of  whom  is  held  by  the  divine  will  in  the  grasp  of 
an  individualising  love  which  nothing  can  loosen. 


SELF-MUTILATION  FOR  SELF-PRESERVATION 

'If  thy  hand  or  thy  foot  causeth  thee  to  stumhle,  cut  it  off,  and  cast  it  from 
^ee.'— Matt,  xviii.  8,  R.V. 

No  person  or  thing  can  do  our  characters  as  much 
harm  as  we  ourselves  can  do.  Indeed,  none  can  do 
them  any  harm  but  ourselves.  For  men  may  put 
stumbling-blocks  in  our  way,  but  it  is  we  who  make 
them  stumbling-blocks.  The  obstacle  in  the  path 
would  do  us  no  hurt  if  it  were  not  for  the  erring 
foot,  nor  the  attractive  prize  if  it  were  not  for  the 
hand  that  itched  to  lay  hold  of  it,  nor  the  glittering 
bauble  if  it  were  not  for  the  eye  that  kindled  at  the 
sight  of  it.  So  our  Lord  here,  having  been  speaking 
of  the  men  that  put  stumbling-blocks  in  the  way 
of  His  little  ones,  draws  the  net  closer  and  bids  us 
look  at  home.  A  solemn  woe  of  divine  judgment  is 
denounced  on  those  who  cause  His  followers  to 
stumble ;  let  us  leave  God  to  execute  that,  and  be 
sure  that  we  have  no  share  in  their  guilt,  but  let  us 
ourselves  be  the  executioners  of  the  judgment  upon 
the  things  in  ourselves  which  alone  give  the  stumbling- 
blocks,  which  others  put  before  us,  their  fatal  power. 

There  is  extraordinary  energy  in  these  words. 
Solemnly  they  are  repeated  twice  here,  verbatim; 
solemnly  they  are  repeated  verbatim  three  times  in 
Mark's  edition.  The  urgent  stringency  of  the  com- 
mand, the  terrible  plainness  of  the  alternative  put 
forth  by  the  lips  that  could  say  nothing  harsh,  and 
the  fact  that  the  very  same  injunction  appears  in  a 
wholly  different  connection  in  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount,  show  us  how  profoundly  important  our  Lord 


10      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xviii. 

felt  the  principle  to  be  which  He  was  here  laying 
down. 

We  mark  these  three  points.  First,  the  case  sup- 
posed, '  If  thy  hand  or  thy  foot  cause  thee  to  stumble.' 
Then  the  sharp,  prompt  remedy  enjoined,  '  Cut  them 
off  and  cast  them  from  thee.'  Then  the  solemn  motive 
by  which  it  is  enforced,  '  It  is  better  for  thee  to  enter 
into  life  maimed  than,  being  a  whole  man,  to  be  cast 
into  hell-fire.' 

I.  First,  then,  as  to  the  case  supposed. 

Hand  and  foot  and  eye  are,  of  course,  regarded  as 
organs  of  the  inward  self,  and  symbols  of  its  tastes  and 
capacities.  We  may  perhaps  see  in  them  the  familiar 
distinction  between  the  practical  and  the  theoretical : 
— hand  and  foot  being  instruments  of  action,  and  the 
eye  the  organ  of  perception.  Our  Lord  takes  an 
extreme  case.  If  members  of  the  body  are  to  be 
amputated  and  plucked  out  should  they  cause  us  to 
stumble,  much  more  are  associations  to  be  abandoned 
and  occupations  to  be  relinquished  and  pleasures  to  be 
forsaken,  if  these  draw  us  away.  But  it  is  to  be  noticed 
that  the  whole  stringency  of  the  commandment  rests 
upon  that  if.  'If  they  cause  thee  to  stumble,'  then, 
and  not  else,  amputate.  The  powers  are  natural,  the 
operation  of  them  is  perfectly  innocent,  but  a  man 
may  be  ruined  by  innocent  things.  And,  says  Christ, 
if  that  process  is  begun,  then,  and  only  then,  does  My 
exhortation  come  into  force. 

Now,  all  that  solemn  thought  of  a  possible  injurious 
issue  of  innocent  occupations,  rests  upon  the  principles 
that  our  nature  has  an  ideal  order,  so  as  that  some  parts 
of  it  are  to  be  suppressed  and  some  are  to  rule,  and 
that  there  are  degrees  of  importance  in  men's  pursuits, 
and  that  where  the  lower  interfere  and  clog  the  opera- 


V.  8]  SELF-MUTILATION  11 

tions  of  the  higher,  there  they  are  harmful.  And  so 
the  only  wisdom  is  to  excise  and  cut  them  off. 

We  see  illustrations  in  abundance  every  day.  There 
are  many  people  who  are  being  ruined  in  regard  to 
the  highest  purposes  of  their  lives,  simply  by  an  over- 
indulgence in  lower  occupations  which  in  themselves 
may  be  perfectly  right.  Here  is  a  young  woman  that 
spends  so  much  of  her  day  in  reading  novels  that  she 
has  no  time  to  look  after  the  house  and  help  her 
mother.  Here  is  a  young  man  so  given  to  athletics 
that  his  studies  are  neglected — and  so  you  may  go  all 
round  the  circle,  and  find  instances  of  the  way  in  which 
innocent  things,  and  the  excessive  or  unwise  exercise 
of  natural  faculties,  are  destroying  men.  And  much 
more  is  that  the  case  in  regard  to  religion,  which  is 
the  highest  object  of  pursuit,  and  in  regard  to  those 
capacities  and  powers  by  which  we  lay  hold  of  God. 
These  are  to  be  ministered  to  by  the  rest,  and  if  there 
be  in  my  nature  or  in  the  order  of  my  life  something 
which  is  drawing  away  to  itself  the  energy  that  ought 
to  go  in  that  other  direction,  then,  howsoever  innocent 
it  may  be,  per  se,  it  is  harming  me.  It  is  a  wfen  that  is 
sucking  all  the  vital  force  into  itself,  and  turning  it 
into  poison.  And  there  is  only  one  cure  for  it,  and 
that  is  the  knife. 

Then  there  is  another  point  to  be  observed  in  this 
case  supposed,  and  that  is  that  the  whole  matter  is  left 
to  the  determination  of  personal  experience.  No  one 
else  has  the  right  to  decide  for  you  what  it  is  safe  and 
wise  for  you  to  do  in  regard  to  things  which  are  not  in 
themselves  wrong.  If  they  are  wrong  in  themselves, 
of  course  the  consideration  of  consequences  is  out  of 
place  altogether ;  but  if  they  be  not  wrong  in  them- 
selves, then  it  is  you  that  must  settle  whether  they  are 


12      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xviii. 

legitimate  for  you  or  not.  Do  not  let  your  Christian 
liberty  be  interfered  with  by  other  people's  dictation  in 
regard  to  this  matter.  How  often  you  hear  people 
say, '/  could  not  do  it';  meaning  thereby,  'therefore 
he  ought  not  to  do  it!'  But  that  inference  is  alto- 
gether illegitimate.  True,  there  are  limitations  of  our 
Christian  liberty  in  regard  to  things  indifferent  and 
innocent.  Paul  lays  down  the  most  important  of 
these  in  three  sentences.  '  All  things  are  lawful  for  me, 
but  all  things  are  not  expedient.'  '  All  things  are  law- 
ful for  me,  but  all  things  edify  not ' ; — you  must  think 
of  your  brethren  as  well  as  of  yourself.  '  All  things 
are  lawful  for  me,  yet  will  I  not  be  brought  under  the 
power  of  any';  keep  master  of  them,  and  rather 
abstain  altogether  than  become  their  slave.  But  these 
three  limitations  being  observed,  then,  in  regard  to  all 
such  matters,  nobody  else  can  prescribe  for  you  or  me. 
'  To  his  own  Master  he  standeth  or  falleth.' 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  do  not  you  be  led  away  into 
things  that  damage  you,  because  some  other  man  does 
them,  as  he  supposes,  without  injury.  'Happy  is  he 
that  condemneth  not  himself  in  that  thing  which  he 
alloweth.'  There  are  some  Christian  people  who  are 
simply  very  unscrupulous  and  think  themselves  very 
strong;  and  whose  consciences  are  not  more  enlight- 
ened, but  less  sensitive,  than  those  of  the  'narrow- 
minded  brethren'  upon  whom  they  look  askance. 

And  so,  dear  friend,  you  ought  to  take  the  world — 
to  inhale  it,  if  I  may  so  say,  as  patients  do  chloroform ; 
only  you  must  be  your  own  doctor  and  keep  your  own 
fingers  on  your  pulse,  and  watch  the  first  sign  of  failure 
there,  and  take  no  more.  When  the  safety  lamps  begin 
to  burn  blue  you  may  be  quite  sure  there  is  choke-damp 
about ;  and  when  Christian  men  and  women  begin  to 


V.  8]  SELF-MUTILATION  13 

find  prayer  wearisome,  and  religious  thoughts  dull, 
and  the  remembrance  of  God  an  effort  or  a  pain,  then, 
whatever  anybody  else  may  do,  it  is  time  for  them  to  pull 
up.  '  If  thy  hand  offend  thee,'  never  mind  though  your 
brother's  hand  is  not  offending  him,  do  the  necessary 
thing  for  your  health,  *  cut  it  off  and  cast  it  from  you.' 

But  of  course  there  must  be  caution  and  common- 
sense  in  the  application  of  such  a  principle.  It  does 
not  mean  that  we  are  to  abandon  all  things  that  are 
susceptible  of  abuse,  for  everything  is  so;  and  if  we 
are  to  regulate  our  conduct  by  such  a  rule,  it  is  not  the 
amputation  of  a  hand  that  will  be  sufficient.  We  may 
as  well  cut  off  our  heads  at  once,  and  go  out  of  the 
world  altogether;  for  everything  is  capable  of  being 
thus  abused. 

Nor  does  the  injunction  mean  that  unconditionally 
we  are  to  abandon  all  occupations  in  which  there  is 
danger.  It  can  never  be  a  duty  to  shirk  a  duty  because 
it  is  dangerous.  And  sometimes  it  is  as  much  a  Chris- 
tian man's  duty  to  go  into,  and  to  stand  in,  positions 
that  are  full  of  temptation  and  danger,  as  it  is  a  fire- 
man's business  to  go  into  a  burning  house  at  the  risk 
of  suffocation.  There  were  saints  in  Caesar's  house- 
hold, flowers  that  grew  on  a  dunghill,  and  they  were 
not  bidden  to  abandon  their  place  because  it  was  full 
of  possible  danger  to  their  souls.  Sometimes  Christ 
sets  His  sentinels  in  places  where  the  bullets  fly  very 
thick ;  and  if  we  are  posted  in  such  a  place — and  we  all 
are  so  some  time  or  other  in  our  lives — the  only  course 
for  us  is  to  stand  our  ground  until  the  relieving  guard 
comes,  and  to  trust  that  He  said  a  truth  that  was 
always  to  be  true,  when  He  sent  out  His  servants  to 
their  dangerous  work,  with  the  assurance  that  if  they 
drank  any  deadly  thing  it  should  not  hurt  them. 


14      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xviii. 

II.  So  much,  then,  for  the  first  of  the  points  here. 
Now  a  word,  in  the  second  place,  as  to  the  sharp 
remedy  enjoined. 

*  Cut  it  off  and  cast  it  from  thee.'  Entire  excision  is 
the  only  safety.  I  myself  am  to  be  the  operator  in 
that  surgery.  I  am  to  lay  my  hand  upon  the  block,  and 
with  the  other  hand  to  grasp  the  axe  and  strike.  That 
is  to  say,  we  are  to  suppress  capacities,  to  abandon 
pursuits,  to  break  with  associates,  when  we  find  that 
they  are  damaging  our  spiritual  life  and  hindering 
our  likeness  to  Jesus  Christ. 

That  is  plain  common-sense.  In  regard  to  physical 
intoxication,  it  is  a  great  deal  easier  to  abstain 
altogether  than  to  take  a  very  little  and  then  stop. 
The  very  fumes  of  alcohol  will  sometimes  drive  a  re- 
claimed drunkard  into  a  bout  of  dissipation  that  will 
last  for  weeks  ;  therefore,  the  only  safety  is  in  entire 
abstinence.  The  rule  holds  in  regard  to  everyday  life. 
Every  man  has  to  give  up  a  great  many  things  if  he 
means  to  succeed  in  one,  and  has  to  be  a  man  of  one 
pursuit  if  anything  worth  doing  is  to  be  done.  Chris- 
tian men  especially  have  to  adopt  that  principle,  and 
shear  off  a  great  deal  that  is  perfectly  legitimate,  in 
order  that  they  may  keep  a  reserve  of  strength  for 
the  highest  things. 

True,  all  forms  of  life  are  capable  of  being  made 
Christian  service  and  Christian  discipline,  but  in  prac- 
tice we  shall  find  that  if  we  are  earnestly  seeking  the 
kingdom  of  God  and  His  righteousness,  not  only  shall 
we  lose  our  taste  for  a  great  deal  that  is  innocent,  but 
we  shall  have,  whether  we  lose  our  taste  for  them  or  not 
— and  more  imperatively  if  we  have  not  lost  our  taste 
for  them  than  if  we  have — to  give  up  allowable  things 
in  order  that  with  all  our  heart,  and  soul,  and  strength, 


V.  8]  SELF-MUTILATION  15 

and  mind,  we  may  love  and  serve  our  Master.  There 
are  no  half-measures  to  be  kept ;  the  only  thing  to  do 
with  the  viper  is  to  shake  it  off  into  the  fire  and  let  it 
burn  there.  We  have  to  empty  our  hands  of  earth's 
trivialities  if  we  would  grasp  Christ  with  them.  We 
have  to  turn  away  our  eyes  from  earth  if  we  would 
behold  the  Master,  and  rigidly  to  apply  this  principle 
of  excision  in  order  that  we  may  advance  in  the  divine 
life.  It  is  the  only  way  to  ensure  progress.  There  is 
no  such  certain  method  of  securing  an  adequate  flow  of 
sap  up  the  trunk  as  to  cut  off  all  the  suckers.  If  you 
wish  to  have  a  current  going  down  the  main  bed  of 
the  stream,  sufficient  to  keep  it  clear,  you  must  dam 
up  all  the  side  channels. 

But  it  is  not  to  be  forgotten  that  this  command- 
ment, stringent  and  necessary  as  it  is,  is  second  best. 
The  man  is  maimed,  although  it  was  for  Christ's  sake 
that  he  cut  off  his  hand,  or  put  out  his  eye.  His  hand 
was  given  him  that  with  it  he  might  serve  God,  and 
the  highest  thing  would  have  been  that  in  hand  and 
foot  and  eye  he  should  have  been  anointed,  like  the 
priests  of  old,  for  the  service  of  his  Master.  But  until 
he  is  strong  enough  to  use  the  faculty  for  God,  the 
wisest  thing  is  not  to  use  it  at  all.  Abandon  the  out- 
works to  keep  the  citadel.  And  just  as  men  pull  down 
the  pretty  houses  on  the  outskirts  of  a  fortified  city 
when  a  siege  is  impending,  in  order  that  they  may 
afford  no  cover  to  the  enemy,  so  we  have  to  sweep 
away  a  great  deal  in  our  lives  that  is  innocent  and 
fair,  in  order  that  the  foes  of  our  spirit  may  find  no 
lodgment  there.  It  is  second  best,  but  for  all  that  it  is 
absolutely  needful.  We  must  lay  '  aside  every  weight,' 
as  well  as  '  the  sin  which  so  easily  besets  us.'  We  must 
run  lightly  if  we  would  run  well.    We  must  cast  aside 


16      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xviii 

all  burdens,  even  though  they  be  burdens  of  treasure 
and  delights,  if  we  would  '  run  with  patience  the  race 
that  is  set  before  us.'  '  If  thy  foot  offend  thee,'  do  not 
hesitate,  do  not  adopt  half-measures,  do  not  try 
moderation,  do  not  seek  to  sanctify  the  use  of  the 
peccant  member ;  all  these  may  be  possible  and  right 
in  time,  but  for  the  present  there  is  only  one  thing  to 
do — down  with  it  on  the  block,  and  off  with  it !  *  Cut 
it  off  and  cast  it  from  thee.' 

III.  And  now,  lastly,  a  word  as  to  the  solemn 
exhortation  by  which  this  injunction  is  enforced. 

Christ  rests  His  command  of  self-denial  and  self- 
mutilation  upon  the  highest  ground  of  self-interest. 
'It  is  better  for  thee.'  We  are  told  nowadays  that  this 
is  a  very  low  motive  to  appeal  to,  that  Christianity  is  a 
religion  of  selfishness,  because  it  says  to  men,  'Your 
life  or  your  death  depends  upon  your  faith  and  your 
conduct,'  Well,  I  think  it  will  be  time  for  us  to  listen 
to  fantastic  objections  of  this  sort  when  the  men  that 
urge  them  refuse  to  turn  down  another  street,  if  they 
are  warned  that  in  the  road  on  which  they  are  going 
they  will  meet  their  death.  As  long  as  they  admit 
that  it  is  a  wise  and  a  kind  thing  to  say  to  a  man,  '  Do 
not  go  that  way  or  your  life  will  be  endangered,'  I 
think  we  may  listen  to  our  Master  saying  to  us,  *  Do 
not  do  that  lest  thou  perish  ;  do  this,  that  thou  may'st 
enter  into  life.' 

And  then,  notice  that  a  maimed  man  may  enter  into 
life,  and  a  complete  man  may  perish.  The  first  may 
be  a  very  poor  creature,  very  ignorant,  with  a  limited 
nature,  undeveloped  capacities,  intellect  and  the  like 
all  but  dormant  in  him,  artistic  sensibilities  quite 
atrophied,  and  yet  he  may  have  got  hold  of  Jesus  Christ 
and  His  love,  and  be  trying  to  love  Him  back  again  and 


V.  8]  SELF-MUTILATION  17 

serve  Him,  and  so  be  entering  into  life  even  here,  and  be 
sure  of  a  life  more  perfect  yonder.  And  the  complete 
man,  cultured  all  round,  with  all  his  faculties  polished 
and  exercised  to  the  full,  may  have  one  side  of  his 
nature  undeveloped — that  which  connects  him  with  God 
in  Christ.  And  so  he  may  be  like  some  fair  tree  that 
stands  out  there  in  the  open,  on  all  sides  extending  its 
equal  beauty,  with  its  stem  symmetrical,  cylindrical, 
perfect  in  its  green  cloud  of  foliage,  yet  there  may  be 
a  worm  at  the  root  of  it,  and  it  may  be  given  up  to 
rottenness  and  destruction.  Cultivated  men  may  perish, 
and  uncultured  men  may  have  the  life.  The  maimed 
man  may  touch  Christ  with  his  stump,  and  so  receive 
life,  and  the  complete  man  may  lay  hold  of  the  world 
and  the  flesh  and  the  devil  with  his  hands,  and  so  share 
in  their  destruction. 

Ay !  and  in  that  case  the  maimed  man  has  the  best 
of  it.  It  is  a  very  plain  axiom  of  the  rudest  common- 
sense,  this  of  my  text :  *  It  is  better  for  thee  to  enter 
into  life  maimed,  than  to  go  into  hell-fire  with  both 
thy  hands.'  That  is  to  say,  it  is  better  to  live  maimed 
than  to  die  whole.  A  man  comes  into  a  hospital  with 
gangrene  in  his  leg ;  the  doctor  says  it  must  come  off ; 
the  man  says,  '  It  shall  not,'  and  he  is  dead  to-morrow. 
Who  is  the  fool — the  man  that  says,  '  Here,  then,  cut 
away ;  better  life  than  limb,'  or  the  man  that  says,  *  I 
will  keep  it  and  I  will  die '  ? 

'  Better  to  enter  into  life  maimed,'  because  you  will 
not  always  be  maimed.  The  life  will  overcome  the 
maiming.  There  is  a  wonderful  restoration  of  capa- 
cities and  powers  that  have  been  sacrificed  for  Christ's 
sake,  a  restoration  even  here.  As  crustaceans  will 
develop  a  new  claw  in  place  of  one  that  they  have 
thrown  off  in  their  peril  to  save  their  lives,  so  we,  if  we 

VOL.  III.  B 


18      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xviii. 

have  for  Christ's  sake  maimed  ourselves,  will  find  that 
in  a  large  measure  the  suppression  v^ill  be  recompensed 
even  here  on  earth. 

And  hereafter,  as  the  Rabbis  used  to  say, '  No  man 
will  rise  from  the  grave  a  cripple.'  All  the  limitations 
which  we  have  imposed  upon  ourselves,  for  Christ's 
sake,  will  be  removed  then.  'Then  shall  the  eyes  of 
the  blind  be  opened,  and  the  ears  of  the  deaf  be  un- 
stopped ;  then  shall  the  lame  man  leap  as  a  hart,  and 
the  tongue  of  the  dumb  shall  sing.'  'Verily  I  say  unto 
thee,  there  is  no  man  that  hath  left  any '  of  his  posses- 
sions, affections,  tastes,  capacities,  'for  My  sake  but  he 
shall  receive  a  hundredfold  more  in  this  life,  and  in  the 
world  to  come,  life  everlasting.'  No  man  is  a  loser  by 
giving  up  anything  for  Jesus  Christ. 

And,  on  the  other  hand,  the  complete  man,  complete 
in  everything  except  his  spiritual  nature,  is  a  fragment 
in  all  his  completeness ;  and  yonder,  there  will  for  him 
be  a  solemn  process  of  stripping.  '  Take  it  from  him, 
and  give  it  to  him  that  hath  ten  talents.'  Ah!  how 
much  of  that  for  which  some  of  you  are  flinging  away 
Jesus  Christ  will  fade  from  you  when  you  go  yonder. 
•  His  glory  shall  not  descend  after  him ' ;  'as  he  came, 
so  shall  he  go.'  'Tongues,  they  shall  cease;  know- 
ledge, it  shall  vanish  away ' ;  gifts  will  fail,  capacities 
will  disappear  when  the  opportunities  for  the  exercise 
of  them  in  a  material  world  are  at  an  end,  and  there 
will  be  little  left  to  the  man  who  would  carry  hands 
and  feet  and  eyes  all  into  the  fire  and  forgot  the  '  one 
thing  needful,'  but  a  thin  thread,  if  I  may  so  say,  of 
personality  quivering  with  the  sense  of  responsibility, 
and  preyed  upon  by  the  gnawing  worm  of  a  too-late 
remorse. 

My  brother,  the  lips  of  Incarnate  Love  spoke  those 


V.8]  THE  LOST  SHEEP  19 

solemn  words  of  my  text,  which  it  becomes  not  me  to 
repeat  to  you  as  if  they  were  mine ;  but  I  ask  you  to 
weigh  this,  His  urgent  commandment,  and  to  listen 
to  His  solemn  assurance,  by  which  He  enforces  the 
wisdom  of  the  self-suppression:  'It  is  better  for  thee 
to  enter  into  life  maimed,  than  having  two  hands,  to 
be  cast  into  hell-fire.' 

Give  your  hearts  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  set  the  follow- 
ing in  His  footsteps  and  the  keeping  of  His  command- 
ments high  above  all  other  aims.  You  will  have  to 
suppress  much  and  give  up  much,  but  such  suppression 
is  the  shortest  road  to  becoming  perfect  men,  com- 
plete in  Him,  and  such  surrender  is  the  surest  way  to 
possess  all  things.  '  He  that  loseth  his  life ' — which  is 
more  than  hand  or  eye — for  Christ's  sake,  'the  same 
shall  find  it.' 


THE  LOST  SHEEP  AND  THE  SEEKING 
SHEPHERD 

'  If  a  man  have  an  hundred  sheep,  and  one  of  them  he  gone  astray,  doth  he  not 
leave  the  ninety  and  nine,  and  goeth  into  the  mountains,  and  seeketh  that  which 
is  gone  astray  ?  '—Matt,  xviii.  12. 

We  find  this  simple  parable,  or  germ  of  a  parable,  in 
a  somewhat  more  expanded  form,  as  the  first  of  the 
incomparable  three  in  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  Luke's 
Gospel.  Perhaps  our  Lord  repeated  the  parable  more 
than  once.  It  is  an  unveiling  of  His  inmost  heart,  and 
therein  a  revelation  of  the  very  heart  of  God.  It  touches 
the  deepest  things  in  His  relation  to  men,  and  sets 
forth  thoughts  of  Him,  such  as  man  never  dared  to 
dream.  It  does  all  this  by  the  homeliest  image  and  by 
an  appeal  to  the  simplest  instincts.    The  most  prosaic 


20      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xviii. 

shepherd  looks  for  lost  sheep,  and  everybody  has 
peculiar  joy  over  lost  things  found.  They  may  not 
be  nearly  so  valuable  as  things  that  were  not  lost. 
The  unstrayed  may  be  many,  and  the  strayed  be  but 
one.  Still  there  is  a  keener  joy  in  the  recovery  of  the 
one  than  in  the  unbroken  possession  of  the  ninety-and- 
nine.  That  feeling  in  a  man  may  be  only  selfishness, 
but  homely  as  it  is — when  the  loser  is  God,  and  the  lost 
are  men,  it  becomes  the  means  of  uttering  and  illus- 
trating that  truth  concerning  God  which  no  religion 
but  that  of  the  Cross  has  ever  been  bold  enough  to 
proclaim,  that  He  cares  most  for  the  wanderers,  and 
rejoices  over  the  return  of  the  one  that  went  astray 
more  than  over  the  ninety-and-nine  who  never  wan- 
dered. 

There  are  some  significant  differences  between  this 
edition  of  the  parable  and  the  form  which  it  assumes 
in  the  Gospel  according  to  Luke.  There  it  is  spoken  in 
vindication  of  Christ's  consorting  with  publicans  and 
sinners ;  here  it  is  spoken  in  order  to  point  the  lesson 
of  not  despising  the  least  and  most  insignificant  of  the 
sons  of  men.  There  the  seeking  Shepherd  is  obviously 
Christ ;  here  the  seeking  Shepherd  is  rather  the  Divine 
Father;  as  appears  by  the  words  of  the  next  verse: 
'For  it  is  not  the  will  of  your  Father  which  is  in 
heaven,  that  one  of  these  little  ones  should  perish.' 
There  the  sheep  is  lost;  here  the  sheep  goes  astray. 
There  the  Shepherd  seeks  till  He  find,  here  the  Shep- 
herd, perhaps,  fails  to  find ;  for  our  Lord  says,  ^  If  so  he 
that  he  find  it.' 

But  I  am  not  about  to  venture  on  all  the  thoughts 
which  this  parable  suggests,  nor  even  to  deal  with  the 
main  lesson  which  it  teaches.  I  wish  merely  to  look 
at  the  two  figures — the  wanderer  and  the  seeker. 


V.  12]  THE  LOST  SHEEP  21 

I.  First,  then,  let  us  look  at  that  figure  of  the  one 
wanderer. 

Of  course  I  need  scarcely  remind  you  that  in  the 
immediate  application  of  the  parable  in  Luke's  Gospel, 
the  ninety-and-nine  were  the  respectable  people  who 
thought  the  publicans  and  harlots  altogether  too  dirty 
to  touch,  and  regarded  it  as  very  doubtful  conduct  on 
the  part  of  this  young  Rabbi  from  Nazareth  to  be  mixed 
up  with  persons  whom  no  one  with  a  proper  regard  for 
whited  sepulchres  would  have  anything  to  do  with. 
To  them  He  answers,  in  effect — I  am  a  shepherd ;  that 
is  my  vindication.  Of  course  a  shepherd  goes  after 
and  cares  for  the  lost  sheep.  He  does  not  ask  about  its 
worth,  or  anything  else.  •  He  simply  follows  the  lost 
because  it  is  lost.  It  may  be  a  poor  little  creature  after 
all,  but  it  is  lost,  and  that  is  enough.  And  so  He  vindi- 
cates Himself  to  the  ninety-and-nine :  '  You  do  not 
need  Me,  you  are  found.  I  take  you  on  your  own 
estimation  of  yourselves,  and  tell  you  that  My  mission 
is  to  the  wanderers.' 

I  do  not  suppose,  however,  that  any  of  us  have  need 
to  be  reminded  that  upon  a  closer  and  deeper  examina- 
tion of  the  facts  of  the  case,  every  hoof  of  the  ninety- 
and-nine  belonged  to  a  stray  sheep  too;  and  that  in 
the  wider  application  of  the  parable  all  men  are  wan- 
derers. Remembering,  then,  this  universal  applica- 
tion, I  would  point  out  two  or  three  things  about  the 
condition  of  these  strayed  sheep,  which  include  the 
whole  race.  The  ninety-and-nine  may  shadow  for  us 
a  number  of  beings,  in  unfallen  worlds,  immensely 
greater  than  even  the  multitudes  of  wandering  souls 
that  have  lived  here  through  weary  ages  of  sin  and 
tears,  but  that  does  not  concern  us  now. 

The  first  thought  I  gather  from  the  parable  is  that 


22      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [cH.xvm. 

all  men  are  Christ's  sheep.  That  sounds  a  strange 
thing  to  say.  What  ?  all  these  men  and  women  who, 
having  run  away  from  Him,  are  plunged  in  sin,  like 
sheep  mired  in  a  black  bog,  the  scoundrels  and  the 
profligates,  the  scum  and  the  outcasts  of  great  cities ; 
people  with  narrow  foreheads,  and  blighted,  blasted 
lives,  the  despair  of  our  modern  civilisation — are  they 
all  His  ?  And  in  those  great  wide-lying  heathen  lands 
■v^^here  men  know  nothing  of  His  name  and  of  His 
love,  are  they  all  His  too  ?  Let  Him  answer, '  Other 
sheep  I  have' — though  they  look  like  goats  to-day — 
'which  are  not  of  this  fold,  them  also  must  I  bring, 
and  they  shall  hear  My  voice.'  All  men  are  Christ's, 
because  He  has  been  the  Agent  of  divine  creation,  and 
the  grand  words  of  the  hundredth  Psalm  are  true 
about  Him.  'It  is  He  that  hath  made  us,  and  we  are 
His.  We  are  His  people  and  the  sheep  of  His  pasture.' 
They  are  His,  because  His  sacrifice  has  bought  them 
for  His.  Erring,  straying,  lost,  they  still  belong  to  the 
Shepherd. 

Notice  next,  the  picture  of  the  sheep  as  wandering. 
The  word  is,  literally,  '  which  goeth  astray,'  not '  which 
is  gone  astray.'  It  pictures  the  process  of  wandering, 
not  the  result  as  accomplished.  We  see  the  sheep, 
poor,  silly  creature,  not  going  anywhere  in  particular, 
only  there  is  a  sweet  tuft  of  grass  here,  and  it  crops 
that ;  and  here  is  a  bit  of  ground  where  there  is  soft 
walking,  and  it  goes  there;  and  so,  step  by  step,  not 
meaning  anything,  not  knowing  where  it  is  going,  or 
that  it  is  going  anywhere  ;  it  goes,  and  goes,  and  goes, 
and  at  last  it  finds  out  that  it  is  away  from  its  beat 
on  the  hillside — for  sheep  keep  to  one  bit  of  hillside 
generally,  as  any  shepherd  will  tell  you — and  then  it 
begins  to  bleat,  and  most  helpless  of  creatures,  flutter- 


V.  12]  THE  LOST  SHEEP  23 

ing  and  excited,  rushes  about  amongst  the  thorns  and 
brambles,  or  gets  mired  in  some  quag  or  other,  and  it 
will  never  find  its  way  back  of  itself  until  some  one 
comes  for  it. 

*So,'  says  Christ  to  us,  'there  are  a  great  many  of 
you  who  do  not  mean  to  go  wrong ;  you  are  not  going 
anywhere  in  particular,  you  do  not  start  on  your  course 
with  any  intentions  either  way,  of  doing  right  or 
wrong,  of  keeping  near  God,  or  going  away  from  Him, 
but  you  simply  go  where  the  grass  is  sweetest,  or  the 
walking  easiest.  But  look  at  the  end  of  it ;  where  you 
have  got  to.    You  have  got  away  from  Him.' 

Now,  if  you  take  that  series  of  parables  in  Luke  xv., 
and  note  the  metaphors  there,  you  will  see  three  dif- 
ferent sides  given  of  the  process  by  which  men's  hearts 
stray  away  from  God.  There  is  the  sheep  that  wanders. 
That  is  partly  conscious,  and  voluntary,  but  in  a  large 
measure  simply  yielding  to  inclination  and  tempta- 
tion. Then  there  is  the  coin  that  trundles  away  under 
some  piece  of  furniture,  and  is  lost — that  is  a  picture 
of  the  manner  in  which  a  man,  without  volition,  almost 
mechanically  sometimes,  slides  into  sins  and  disappears 
as  it  were,  and  gets  covered  over  with  the  dust  of  evil. 
And  then  there  is  the  worst  of  all,  the  lad  that  had  full 
knowledge  of  what  he  was  doing.  *I  am  going  into  a 
far-off  country;  I  cannot  stand  this  any  longer — all 
restraint  and  no  liberty,  and  no  power  of  doing  what 
I  like  with  my  own ;  and  always  obliged  to  obey  and 
be  dependent  on  my  father  for  my  pocket-money! 
Give  me  what  belongs  to  me,  for  good  and  all,  and  let 
me  go!'  That  is  the  picture  of  the  worst  kind  of 
wandering,  when  a  man  knows  what  he  is  about,  and 
looks  at  the  merciful  restraint  of  the  law  of  God,  and 
says :  '  No !  I  had  rather  be  far  away ;   and  my  own 


24      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xviii. 

master,    and   not    always  be  "  cribbed,  cabined,  and 
confined  "  with  these  limitations.' 

The  straying  of  the  half-conscious  sheep  may  seem 
more  innocent,  but  it  carries  the  poor  creature  away 
from  the  shepherd  as  completely  as  if  it  had  been  wholly 
intelligent  and  voluntary.  Let  us  learn  the  lesson.  In 
a  world  like  this,  if  a  man  does  not  know  very  clearly 
where  he  is  going,  he  is  sure  to  go  wrong.  If  you  do 
not  exercise  a  distinct  determination  to  do  God's  will, 
and  to  follow  in  His  footsteps  who  has  set  us  an 
example  ;  and  if  your  main  purpose  is  to  get  succulent 
grass  to  eat  and  soft  places  to  walk  in,  you  are  certain 
before  long  to  wander  tragically  from  all  that  is  right 
and  noble  and  pure.  It  is  no  excuse  for  you  to  say :  *  I 
never  meant  it';  'I  did  not  intend  any  harm,  I  only 
followed  my  own  inclinations.'  'More  mischief  is 
wrought  ' — to  the  man  himself,  as  well  as  to  other 
people — '  from  want  of  thought  than  is  wrought  by ' 
an  evil  will.  And  the  sheep  has  strayed  as  effectually, 
though,  when  it  set  out  on  its  journey,  it  never  thought 
of  straying.  Young  men  and  women  beginning  life, 
remember !  and  take  this  lesson. 

But  then  there  is  another  point  that  I  must  touch 
for  a  moment.  In  the  Revised  Version  you  will  find 
a  very  tiny  alteration  in  the  words  of  my  text,  which, 
yet,  makes  a  large  difference  in  the  sense.  The  last 
clause  of  my  text,  as  it  stands  in  our  Bible,  is,  'And 
seeketh  that  which  is  gone  astray';  the  Revised  Version 
more  correctly  reads,  '  And  seeketh  that  which  is 
going  astray.'  Now,  look  at  the  difference  in  these  two 
renderings.  In  the  former  the  process  is  represented 
as  finished,  in  the  correct  rendering  it  is  represented 
as  going  on.  And  that  is  what  I  would  press  on  you, 
the  awful,  solemn,  necessarily  progressive  character  of 


V.  12]  THE  LOST  SHEEP  25 

our  wanderings  from  God.  A  man  never  gets  to  the 
end  of  the  distance  that  separates  between  him  and  the 
Father,  if  his  face  is  turned  away  from  God.  Every 
moment  the  separation  is  increasing.  Two  lines  start 
from  each  other  at  the  acutest  angle  and  diverge 
more  the  further  they  are  produced,  until  at  last  the 
one  may  be  away  up  by  the  side  of  God's  throne,  and 
the  other  away  down  in  the  deepest  depths  of  hell.  So 
accordingly  my  text  carries  with  solemn  pathos,  in  a 
syllable,  the  tremendous  lesson :  '  The  sheep  is  not  gone, 
but  going  astray.'  Ah !  there  are  some  of  my  hearers 
who  are  daily  and  hourly  increasing  the  distance  be- 
tween themselves  and  their  merciful  Father. 

Now  the  last  thing  here  in  this  picture  is  the  con- 
trast between  the  description  given  of  the  wandering 
sheep  in  our  text,  and  that  in  St.  Luke.  Here  it  is 
represented  as  wandering,  there  it  is  represented  as 
lost.  That  is  very  beautiful  and  has  a  meaning  often 
not  noticed  by  hasty  readers.  Who  is  it  that  has  lost 
it  ?  We  talk  about  the  lost  soul  and  the  lost  man,  as 
if  it  were  the  man  that  had  lost  himself,  and  that  is 
true,  and  a  dreadful  truth  it  is.  But  that  is  not  the 
truth  that  is  taught  in  this  parable,  and  meant  by  us 
to  be  gathered  from  it.  Who  is  it  that  has  lost  it? 
He  to  whom  it  belonged. 

That  is  to  say,  wherever  a  heart  gets  ensnared  and 
entangled  with  the  love  of  the  treasures  and  pleasures 
of  this  life,  and  so  departs  in  allegiance  and  confidence 
and  friendship  from  the  living  God,  there  God  the 
Father  regards  Himself  as  the  poorer  by  the  loss  of 
one  of  .His  children,  by  the  loss  of  one  of  His  sheep. 
He  does  not  care  to  possess  you  by  the  hold  of  mere 
creation  and  supremacy  and  rule.  He  desires  you  to 
love  Him,  and  then  He  deems  that  He  has  you.    And  if 


26      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xviii. 

you  do  not  love  Him,  He  deems  that  He  has  lost  you. 
There  is  something  in  the  divine  heart  that  goes  out 
after  His  lost  property.  We  touch  here  upon  deep 
things  that  we  cannot  speak  of  intelligently ;  only  re- 
member this,  that  what  looks  like  self-regard  in  man 
is  the  purest  love  in  God,  and  that  there  is  nothing 
in  the  whole  revelation  which  Christianity  makes  of 
the  character  of  God  more  wonderful  than  this,  that 
He  judges  that  He  has  lost  His  child  when  His  child 
has  forgotten  to  love  Him. 

II.  So  much,  then,  for  one  of  the  great  pictures  in 
this  text.  I  can  spare  but  a  sentence  or  two  for  the 
other — the  picture  of  the  Seeker. 

I  said  that  in  the  one  form  of  the  parable  it  was 
more  distinctly  the  Father,  and  in  the  other  more  dis- 
tinctly the  Son,  who  is  represented  as  seeking  the 
sheep.  But  these  two  do  still  coincide  in  substance, 
inasmuch  as  God's  chief  way  of  seeking  us  poor  wan- 
dering sheep  is  through  the  work  of  His  dear  Son 
Jesus,  and  the  coming  of  Christ  is  the  Father's  search- 
ing for  His  sheep  in  the  '  cloudy  and  dark  day.' 

According  to  my  text  God  leaves  the  ninety-and-nine 
and  goes  into  the  mountains  where  the  wanderer  is, 
and  seeks  him.  And  this,  couched  in  veiled  form, 
is  the  great  mystery  of  the  divine  love,  the  incarna- 
tion and  sacrifice  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Here  is 
the  answer  by  anticipation  to  the  sarcasm  that  is 
often  levelled  at  evangelical  Christianity :  '  You  must 
think  a  good  deal  of  human  nature,  and  must  have  a 
very  arrogant  notion  of  the  inhabitant  of  this  little 
speck  that  floats  in  the  great  sea  of  the  heavens,  if  you 
suppose  that  with  all  these  millions  of  orbs  he  is  so 
important  that  the  divine  Nature  came  down  upon 
this  little  tiny  molehill,  and  took  his  nature  and  died.' 


V.  12]  THE  LOST  SHEEP  27 

'Yes !'  says  Christ,  'not  because  man  was  so  great, not 
because  man  was  so  valuable  in  comparison  with  the 
rest  of  creation — he  was  but  one  amongst  ninety-nine 
unfallen  and  unsinful — but  because  he  was  so  wretched, 
because  he  was  so  small,  because  he  had  gone  so  far 
away  from  God ;  therefore,  the  seeking  love  came  after 
him,  and  would  draw  him  to  itself.'  That,  I  think,  is 
answer  enough  to  the  cavil. 

And  then,  there  is  a  difference  between  these  two 
versions  of  the  Parable  in  respect  to  their  representa- 
tion of  the  end  of  the  seeking.  The  one  says  'seeks 
until  He  finds.'  Oh !  the  patient,  incredible  inex- 
haustibleness  of  the  divine  love.  God's  long-suffering, 
if  I  may  take  such  a  metaphor,  like  a  sleuth-hound, 
will  follow  the  object  of  its  search  through  all  its 
windings  and  doublings,  until  it  comes  up  to  it.  So 
that  great  seeking  Shepherd  follows  us  through  all  the 
devious  courses  of  our  wayward,  wandering  footsteps 
doubling  back  upon  themselves,  until  He  finds  us. 
Though  the  sheep  may  increase  its  distance,  the  Shep- 
herd follows.  The  further  away  we  get  the  more 
tender  His  appeal;  the  more  we  stop  our  ears  the 
louder  the  voice  with  which  He  calls.  You  cannot 
wear  out  Jesus  Christ,  you  cannot  exhaust  the  re- 
sources of  His  bounteousness,  of  His  tenderness.  How- 
ever we  may  have  been  going  wrong,  however  far  we 
may  have  been  wandering,  however  vehemently  we 
may  be  increasing,  at  every  moment,  our  distance 
from  Him,  He  is  coming  after  us,  serene,  loving,  long- 
suffering,  and  will  not  be  put  away. 

Dear  friend!  would  you  only  believe  that  a  loving, 
living  Person  is  really  seeking  you,  seeking  you  by  my 
poor  words  now,  seeking  you  by  many  a  providence, 
seeking  you  by  His  Gospel,  by  His  Spirit;   and  will 


28      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xviii. 

never  be  satisfied  till  He  has  found  you  in  your  finding 
Him  and  turning  your  soul  to  Him  ! 

But,  I  beseech  you,  do  not  forget  the  solemn  lesson 
drawn  from  the  other  form  of  the  parable  which  is 
given  in  my  text :  If  so  he  that  He  find  it.  There  is  a 
possibility  of  failure.  What  an  awful  power  you  have 
of  burying  yourself  in  the  sepulchre,  as  it  were,  of  your 
own  self-will,  and  hiding  yourself  in  the  darkness  of 
your  own  unbelief!  You  can  frustrate  the  seeking 
love  of  God.  Some  of  you  have  done  so — some  of  you 
have  done  so  all  your  lives.  Some  of  you,  perhaps  at 
this  moment,  are  trying  to  do  so,  and  consciously  en- 
deavouring to  steel  your  hearts  against  some  softening 
that  may  have  been  creeping  over  them  whilst  I  have 
been  speaking.  Are  you  yielding  to  His  seeking  love, 
or  wandering  further  and  further  from  Him  ?  He  has 
come  to  find  you.  Let  Him  not  seek  in  vain,  but  let  the 
Good  Shepherd  draw  you  to  Himself,  where,  lifted  on 
the  Cross,  He  '  giveth  His  life  for  the  sheep.'  He  will 
restore  your  soul  and  carry  you  back  on  His  strong 
shoulder,  or  in  His  bosom  near  His  loving  heart,  to  the 
green  pastures  and  the  safe  fold.  There  will  be  joy 
in  His  heart,  more  than  over  those  who  have  never 
wandered ;  and  there  will  be  joy  in  the  heart  of  the  re- 
turning wanderer,  such  as  they  who  had  not  strayed 
and  learned  the  misery  could  never  know,  for,  as  the 
profound  Jewish  saying  has  it,  'In  the  place  where 
the  penitents  stand,  the  perfectly  righteous  cannot 
stand.' 


THE  PERSISTENCE  OF  THWARTED  LOVE 

•If  so  be  that  he  find  it.'— Matt,  xviii.  13. 
•  Until  he  find  it.'— Luke  xv.  i. 

Like  other  teachers,  Jesus  seems  to  have  had  favourite 
points  of  view  and  utterances  which  came  naturally  to 
His  lips.  There  are  several  instances  in  the  gospels  of 
His  repeating  the  same  sayings  in  entirely  different  con- 
nections and  with  different  applications.  One  of  these 
habitual  points  of  view  seems  to  have  been  the  thought 
of  men  as  wandering  sheep,  and  of  Himself  as  the 
Shepherd.  The  metaphor  has  become  so  familiar  that 
we  need  a  moment's  reflection  to  grasp  the  mingled 
tenderness,  sadness,  and  majesty  of  it.  He  thought 
habitually  of  all  humanity  as  a  flock  of  lost  sheep,  and 
of  Himself  as  high  above  them,  unparticipant  of  their 
evil,  and  having  one  errand — to  bring  them  back. 

And  not  only  does  He  frequently  refer  to  this  sym- 
bol, but  we  have  the  two  editions,  from  which  my 
texts  are  respectively  taken,  of  the  Parable  of  the  Lost 
Sheep.  I  say  two  editions,  because  it  seems  to  me  a 
great  deal  more  probable  that  Jesus  should  have 
repeated  Himself  than  that  either  of  the  Evangelists 
should  have  ventured  to  take  this  gem  and  set  it  in  an 
alien  setting.  The  two  versions  differ  slightly  in  some 
unimportant  expressions,  and  Matthew's  is  the  more 
condensed  of  the  two.  But  the  most  important  varia- 
tion is  the  one  which  is  brought  to  lignt  by  the  two 
fragments  which  I  have  ventured  to  isolate  as  texts. 
'  If  He  find '  implies  the  possible  failure  of  the  Shep- 
herd's search ;  '  till  He  find '  implies  His  unwearied 
persistence  in  the  teeth  of  all  failure.    And,  taken  in 

39 


30      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xviii. 

conjunction,  they  suggest  some  very  blessed  and  solemn 
considerations,  which  I  pray  for  strength  to  lay  upon 
your  minds  and  hearts  now. 

I.  But  first  let  me  say  a  word  or  two  upon  the  more 
general  thought  brought  out  in  both  these  clauses — of 
the  Shepherd's  search. 

Now,  beautiful  and  heart-touching  as  that  picture  is, 
of  the  Shepherd  away  amongst  the  barren  mountains 
searching  minutely  in  every  ravine  and  thicket,  it 
wants  a  little  explanation  in  order  to  be  brought  into 
correspondence  with  the  fact  which  it  expresses.  For 
His  search  for  His  lost  property  is  not  in  ignorance 
of  where  it  is,  and  His  finding  of  it  is  not  His  dis- 
covery of  His  sheep,  but  its  discovery  of  its  Shepherd. 
We  have  to  remember  wherein  consists  the  loss  before 
we  can  understand  wherein  consists  the  search. 

Now,  if  we  ask  ourselves  that  question  first,  we  get 
a  flood  of  light  on  the  whole  matter.  The  great 
hundredth  Psalm,  according  to  its  true  rendering, 
says,  '  It  is  He  that  hath  made  us,  and  we  are  His ; 
.  .  .  we  are  .  .  .  the  sheep  of  His  pasture.'  But  God's 
true  possession  of  man  is  not  simply  the  possession 
inherent  in  the  act  of  creation.  For  there  is  only  one 
way  in  which  spirit  can  own  spirit,  or  heart  can  possess 
heart,  and  that  is  through  the  voluntary  yielding  and 
love  of  the  one  to  the  other.  So  Jesus  Christ,  who,  in 
all  His  seeking  after  us  men,  is  the  voice  and  hand  of 
Almighty  Love,  does  not  count  that  He  has  found  a 
man  until  the  man  has  learned  to  love  Him.  For  He 
loses  us  when  we  are  alienated  from  Him,  when  we 
cease  to  trust  Him,  when  we  refuse  to  obey  Him,  when 
we  will  not  yield  to  Him,  but  put  Him  far  away  from 
us.  Therefore  the  search  which,  as  being  Christ's  is 
God's  in  Christ,  is  for  our  love,  our  trust,  our  obedience ; 


V.  13]  THWARTED  LOVE  31 

and  in  reality  it  consists  of  all  the  energies  by  which 
Jesus  Christ,  as  God's  embodiment  and  representative, 
seeks  to  woo  and  win  you  and  me  back  to  Himself,  that 
He  may  truly  possess  us. 

If  the  Shepherd's  seeking  is  but  a  tender  metaphor 
for  the  whole  aggregate  of  the  ways  by  which  the  love 
that  is  divine  and  human  in  Jesus  Christ  moves  round 
about  our  closed  hearts,  as  water  may  feel  round  some 
hermetically  sealed  vessel,  seeking  for  an  entrance, 
then  surely  the  first  and  chiefest  of  them,  which  makes 
its  appeal  to  each  of  us  as  directly  as  to  any  man  that 
ever  lived,  is  that  great  mystery  that  Jesus  Christ,  the 
eternal  Word  of  God,  left  the  ninety-and-nine  that 
were  safe  on  the  high  pastures  of  the  mountains  of 
God,  and  came  down  among  us,  out  into  the  wilder- 
ness, '  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost.' 

And,  brother,  that  method  of  winning — I  was  going 
to  say,  of  earning  —  our  love  comes  straight  in  its 
appeal  to  every  single  soul  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
Do  not  say  that  thou  wert  not  in  Christ's  heart  and 
mind  when  He  willed  to  be  born  and  willed  to  die. 
Thou,  and  thou,  and  thou,  and  every  single  unit  of 
humanity  were  there  clear  before  Him  in  their  individu- 
ality ;  and  He  died  for  thee,  and  for  me,  and  for  every 
man.  And,  in  one  aspect,  that  is  more  than  to  say  that 
He  died  for  all  men.  There  was  a  specific  intention 
in  regard  to  each  of  us  in  the  mission  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
and  when  He  went  to  the  Cross  the  Shepherd  was  not 
giving  His  life  for  a  confused  flock  of  which  He  knew 
not  the  units,  but  for  sheep  the  face  of  each  of  whom 
He  knows,  and  each  of  whom  He  loves.  There  was  His 
first  seeking ;  there  is  His  chief  seeking.  There  is  the 
seeking  which  ought  to  appeal  to  every  soul  of  man, 
and  which,  ever  since  you  were  children,  has  been 


32      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xviii. 

making  its  appeal  to  you.  Has  it  done  so  in  vain? 
Dear  friend,  let  not  your  heart  still  be  hard. 

He  seeks  us  by  every  record  of  that  mighty  love 
that  died  for  us,  even  when  it  is  being  spoken  as 
poorly,  and  with  as  many  limitations  and  imperfec- 
tions, as  I  am  speaking  it  now.  'As  though  God 
did  beseech  you  by  us,  pray  you  in  Christ's  stead.'  It 
is  not  arrogance,  God  forbid !  it  is  simple  truth  when 
I  say.  Never  mind  about  me ;  but  my  word,  in  so  far  as 
it  is  true  and  tender,  is  Christ's  word  to  you.  And 
here,  in  our  midst,  that  unseen  Form  is  passing  along 
these  pews  and  speaking  to  these  hearts,  and  the 
Shepherd  is  seeking  His  sheep. 

He  seeks  each  of  us  by  the  inner  voices  and  emotions 
in  our  hearts  and  minds,  by  those  strange  whisperings 
which  sometimes  we  hear,  by  the  suddenly  upstarting 
convictions  of  duty  and  truth  which  sometimes,  with- 
out manifest  occasion,  flash  across  our  hearts.  These 
voices  are  Christ's  voice,  for,  in  a  far  deeper  sense  than 
most  men  superficially  believe,  'He  is  the  true  Light 
that  lighteth  every  man  coming  into  the  world.' 

He  is  seeking  us  by  our  unrest,  by  our  yearnings 
after  we  know  not  what,  by  our  dim  dissatisfaction 
which  insists  upon  making  itself  felt  in  the  midst  of 
joys  and  delights,  and  which  the  world  fails  to  satisfy 
as  much  as  it  fails  to  interpret.  There  is  a  cry  in 
every  heart,  little  as  the  bearer  of  the  heart  translates 
it  into  its  true  meaning — a  cry  after  God,  even  the 
living  God.  And  by  all  your  unrests,  your  disappoint- 
ments, your  hopes  unfulfilled,  your  hopes  fulfilled  and 
blasted  in  the  fulfilment,  your  desires  that  perish  un- 
fruited  ;  by  all  the  mystic  movements  of  the  spirit  that 
yearns  for  something  beyond  the  material  and  the 
visible,  Jesus  Christ  is  seeking  His  sheep. 


V.13]  THWARTED  LOVE  83 

He  seeks  us  by  the  discipline  of  life,  for  I  believe 
that  Christ  is  the  active  Providence  of  God,  and  that 
the  hands  that  were  pierced  on  the  Cross  do  move  the 
wheels  of  the  history  of  the  world,  and  mould  the 
destinies  of  individual  spirits. 

The  deepest  meaning  of  all  life  is  that  we  should  be 
won  to  seek  Him  who  in  it  all  is  seeking  us,  and  led  to 
venture  our  hopes,  and  fling  the  anchor  of  our  faith 
beyond  the  bounds  of  the  visible,  that  it  may  fasten  in 
the  Eternal,  even  in  Christ  Himself,  *  the  same  yester- 
day and  to-day  and  for  ever '  when  earth  and  its  train- 
ing are  done  with.  Brethren,  it  is  a  blessed  thing  to 
live,  when  we  interpret  life's  smallnesses  aright  as  the 
voice  of  the  Master,  who,  by  them  all — our  sadness  and 
our  gladness,  the  unrest  of  our  hearts  and  the  yearn- 
ings and  longings  of  our  spirits,  by  the  ministry  of  His 
word,  by  the  record  of  His  sufferings — is  echoing  the 
invitation  of  the  Cross  itself,  'Come  unto  Me,  all  ye 
,  .  .  and  I  will  give  you  rest ! '  So  much  for  the  Shep- 
herd's search. 

II.  And  now,  in  the  second  place,  a  word  as  to  the 
possible  thwarting  of  the  search. 

•  If  so  be  that  He  find.'  That  is  an  awful  if,  when 
we  think  of  what  lies  below  it.  The  thing  seems  an 
absurdity  when  it  is  spoken,  and  yet  it  is  a  grim  fact 
in  many  a  life — viz.  that  Christ's  effort  can  fail  and  be 
thwarted.  Not  that  His  search  is  perfunctory  or  care- 
less, but  that  we  shroud  ourselves  in  darkness  through 
which  that  love  can  find  no  way.  It  is  we,  not  He, 
that  are  at  fault  when  He  fails  to  find  that  which  He 
seeks.  There  is  nothing  more  certain  than  that  God, 
and  Christ  the  image  of  God,  desire  the  rescue  of 
every  man,  woman,  and  child  of  the  human  race.  Let 
no  teaching  blur  that  sunlight  fact.    There  is  nothing 

VOL.  HI, 


34      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xviii. 

more  certain  than  that  Jesus  Christ  has  done,  and  is 
doing,  all  that  He  can  do  to  secure  that  purpose.  If 
He  could  make  every  man  love  Him,  and  so  find  every 
man,  be  sure  that  He  would  do  it.  But  He  cannot. 
For  here  is  the  central  mystery  of  creation,  which  if 
we  could  solve  there  would  be  few  knots  that  would 
resist  our  fingers,  that  a  finite  will  like  yours  or  mine 
can  lift  itself  up  against  God,  and  that,  having  the 
capacity,  it  has  the  desire.  He  says,  '  Come ! '  We 
say,  'I  will  not.'  That  door  of  the  heart  opens  from 
within,  and  He  never  breaks  it  open.  He  stands  at  the 
door  and  knocks.  And  then  the  same  solemn  */ comes 
— '  If  any  man  opens,  I  will  come  in ' ;  if  any  man  keeps 
it  shut,  and  holds  on  to  prevent  its  being  opened,  I  will 
stop  out. 

Brethren,  I  seek  to  press  upon  you  now  the  one  plain 
truth,  that  if  you  are  not  saved  men  and  women,  there 
is  no  person  in  heaven  or  earth  or  hell  that  has  any 
blame  in  the  matter  but  yourself  alone.  God  appeals 
to  us,  and  says,  '  What  more  could  have  been  done  to 
My  vineyard  that  I  have  not  done  unto  it  ? '  His 
hands  are  clean,  and  the  infinite  love  of  Christ  is  free 
from  all  blame,  and  all  the  blame  lies  at  our  own  doors. 

I  must  not  dwell  upon  the  various  reasons  which 
lead  so  many  men  among  us — as,  alas !  the  utmost 
charity  cannot  but  see  that  there  are — to  turn  away 
from  Christ's  appeals,  and  to  be  unwilling  to  'have 
this  Man '  either  '  to  reign  over '  them  or  to  save  them. 
There  are  many  such,  I  am  sure,  in  my  audience  now ; 
and  I  would  fain,  if  I  could,  draw  them  to  that  Lord 
in  whom  alone  they  have  life,  and  rest,  and  holiness, 
and  heaven. 

One  great  reason  is  because  you  do  not  believe  that 
you  need  Him.    There  is  an  awful  inadequacy  in  most 


V.  13]  THWARTED  LOVE  35 

men's  conceptions — and  still  more  in  their  feelings — 
as  to  their  sin.  Oh  dear  friends,  if  you  would  only 
submit  your  consciences  for  one  meditative  half -hour 
to  the  light  of  God's  highest  law,  I  think  you  would 
find  out  something  more  than  many  of  you  know,  as 
to  what  you  are  and  what  your  sin  is.  Many  of  us  do 
not  much  believe  that  we  are  in  any  danger.  I  have 
seen  a  sheep  comfortably  cropping  the  short  grass  on 
a  down  over  the  sea,  with  one  foot  out  in  the  air,  and 
a  precipice  of  five  hundred  feet  below  it,  and  at  the 
bottom  the  crawling  water.  It  did  not  know  that  there 
was  any  danger  of  going  over.  That  is  like  some  of 
us.  If  you  believed  what  is  true — that  *  sin  when  it  is 
finished,  bringeth  forth  death,'  and  understood  what 
*  death '  meant,  you  would  feel  the  mercy  of  the  Shep- 
herd seeking  you.  Some  of  us  think  we  are  in  the 
flock  when  we  are  not.  Some  of  us  do  not  like  sub- 
mission. Some  of  us  have  no  inclination  for  the  sweet 
pastures  that  He  provides,  and  would  rather  stay  where 
we  are,  and  have  the  fare  that  is  going  there. 

"We  do  not  need  to  do  anything  to  put  Him  away. 
I  have  no  doubt  that  some  of  us,  as  soon  as  my  voice 
ceases,  will  plunge  again  into  worldly  talk  and  thoughts 
before  they  are  down  the  chapel  steps,  and  so  blot 
out,  as  well  as  they  can,  any  vagrant  and  superficial 
impression  that  may  have  been  made.  Dear  brethren, 
it  is  a  very  easy  matter  to  turn  away  from  the  Shep- 
herd's voice.  'I  called,  and  ye  refused.  I  stretched 
out  My  hands,  and  no  man  regarded.'  That  is  all! 
That  is  what  you  do,  and  that  is  enough. 

III.  So,  lastly,  the  thwarted  search  prolonged. 

'  Till  He  find ' — that  is  a  wonderful  and  a  merciful 
word.  It  indicates  the  infinitude  of  Christ's  patient 
forgiveness  and  perseverance.     We  tire  of  searching. 


36      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xvm 

•Can  a  mother  forget'  or  abandon  her  seeking  after 
a  lost  child  ?  Yes  !  if  it  has  gone  on  for  so  long  as  to 
show  that  further  search  is  hopeless,  she  will  go  home 
and  nurse  her  sorrow  in  her  heart.  Or,  perhaps,  like 
some  poor  mothers  and  wives,  it  will  turn  her  brain, 
and  one  sign  of  her  madness  will  be  that,  long  years 
after  grief  should  have  been  calm  because  hope  was 
dead,  she  will  still  be  looking  for  the  little  one  so  long 
lost.  But  Jesus  Christ  stands  at  the  closed  door,  as  a 
great  modern  picture  shows,  though  it  has  been  so 
long  undisturbedly  closed  that  the  hinges  are  brown 
with  rust,  and  weeds  grow  high  against  it.  He  stands 
there  in  the  night,  with  the  dew  on  His  hair,  unheeded 
or  repelled,  like  some  stranger  in  a  hostile  village 
seeking  for  a  night's  shelter.  He  will  not  be  put 
away ;  but,  after  all  refusals,  still  with  gracious  finger, 
knocks  upon  the  door,  and  speaks  into  the  heart. 
Some  of  you  have  refused  Him  all  your  lives,  and 
perhaps  you  have  grey  hairs  upon  you  now.  And  He 
is  speaking  to  you  still.  He  *  suffereth  long,  is  not 
easily  provoked,  is  not  soon  angry ;  hopeth  all  things,' 
even  of  the  obstinate  rejecters. 

For  that  is  another  truth  that  this  word  'till' 
preaches  to  us — viz.  the  possibility  of  bringing  back 
those  that  have  gone  furthest  away  and  have  been 
longest  away.  The  world  has  a  great  deal  to  say 
about  incurable  cases  of  moral  obliquity  and  deformity. 
Christ  knows  nothing  about '  incurable  cases.'  If  there 
is  a  worst  man  in  the  world — and  perhaps  there  is — 
there  is  nothing  but  his  own  disinclination  to  pre- 
vent his  being  brought  back,  and  made  as  pure  as  an 
angel. 

But  do  not  let  us  deal  with  generalities;  let  us  bring 
the  truths  to  ourselves.   Dear  brethren,  I  know  nothing 


V.  13]    FORGIVEN  AND  UNFORGIVING    87 

about  the  most  of  you.  I  should  not  know  you  again  if 
I  met  you  j&ve  minutes  after  we  part  now.  I  have 
never  spoken  to  many  of  you,  and  probably  never 
shall,  except  in  this  public  way ;  but  I  know  that  you 
need  Christ,  and  that  Christ  wants  you.  And  I  know 
that,  however  far  you  have  gone,  you  have  not  gone 
so  far  but  that  His  love  feels  out  through  the  remote- 
ness to  grasp  you,  and  would  fain  draw  you  to  itself. 

I  dare  say  you  have  seen  upon  some  dreary  moor, 
or  at  the  foot  of  some  *  scaur '  on  the  hillside,  the 
bleached  bones  of  a  sheep,  lying  white  and  grim  among 
the  purple  heather.  It  strayed,  unthinking  of  danger, 
tempted  by  the  sweet  herbage ;  it  fell ;  it  vainly 
bleated ;  it  died.  But  what  if  it  had  heard  the  shep- 
herd's call,  and  had  preferred  to  lie  where  it  fell,  and 
to  die  where  it  lay  ?  We  talk  about '  silly  sheep.'  Are 
there  any  of  them  so  foolish  as  men  and  women  listen- 
ing to  me  now,  who  will  not  answer  the  Shepherd's 
voice  when  they  hear  it,  with,  '  Lord,  here  am  I,  come 
and  help  me  out  of  this  miry  clay,  and  bring  me  back.' 
He  is  saying  to  each  of  you, '  Turn  ye,  turn  ye,  why  will 
ye  die  ? '  May  He  not  have  to  say  at  last  of  any  of  us, 
•  Ye  would  not  come  to  Me,  that  ye  might  have  life ! ' 


FORGIVEN  AND  UNFORGIVING 

'Jesus  saith  unto  him,  I  say  not  unto  thee,  Until  seven  times ;  but.  Until  seventy 
times  seven.'— Matt,  xviii.  22. 

The  disciples  had  been  squabbling  about  pre-eminence 
in  the  kingdom  which  they  thought  was  presently 
to  appear.  They  had  ventured  to  refer  their  selfish 
and  ambitious  dispute  to  Christ's  arbitrament.  He 
answered  by  telling  them  the  qualifications  of  'the 


38      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.  xviil 

greatest  in  the  kingdom ' — that  they  are  to  be  humble 
like  little  children ;  that  they  are  to  be  placable ;  that 
they  are  to  use  all  means  to  reclaim  offenders ;  and 
that,  even  if  the  offence  is  against  themselves,  they  are 
to  ignore  the  personal  element,  and  to  regard  the 
offender,  not  so  much  as  having  done  them  harm,  as 
having  harmed  himself  by  his  evil-doing. 

Peter  evidently  feels  that  that  is  a  very  hard  com- 
mandment for  a  man  of  his  temperament,  and  so  he 
goes  to  Jesus  Christ  for  a  little  further  direction,  and 
proposes  a  question  as  to  the  limits  of  this  disposition : 
'How  often  shall  my  brother  sin?'  The  very  question 
betrays  that  he  does  not  understand  what  forgiveness 
means ;  for  it  is  not  real,  if  the  '  forgiven '  sin  is  stowed 
away  safely  in  the  memory.  '  I  can  forgive,  but  I 
cannot  forget,'  generally  means,  *  I  do  not  quite  forgive.' 
We  are  not  to  take  the  pardoned  offence,  and  carry  it 
to  a  kind  of  'suspense  account,' to  be  revived  if  another 
is  committed,  but  we  are  to  blot  it  out  altogether. 
Peter  thought  that  he  had  given  a  very  wide  allowance 
when  he  said  'seven  times.'  Christ's  answer  lifts  the 
whole  subject  out  of  the  realm  of  hard  and  fast  lines 
and  limits,  for  He  takes  the  two  perfect  numbers  '  ten ' 
and  '  seven,'  and  multiplies  them  together,  and  then  He 
multiplies  that  by  '  seven '  once  more  ;  and  the  product 
is  not  four  hundred  and  ninety,  but  is  innumerableness. 
He  does  not  mean  that  the  four  hundred  and  ninety- 
first  offence  is  outside  the  pale,  but  He  suggests  inde- 
finiteness,  endlessness.  So,  as  I  say.  He  lifts  the  question 
out  of  the  region  in  which  Peter  was  keeping  it,  thereby 
betraying  that  he  did  not  understand  what  he  was 
talking  about,  and  tells  us  that  there  are  no  limits  to 
the  obligation. 

The  parable  which  follows,  and  follows  with  a » there- 


V.  22]    FORGIVEN  AND  UNFORGIVING    39 

fore,'  does  not  deal  so  much  with  Peter's  question  as  to 
the  limits  of  the  disposition,  but  sets  forth  its  grounds 
and  the  nature  of  its  manifestations.  If  we  understand 
why  we  ought  to  forgive,  and  what  forgiveness  is,  we 
shall  not  say,  '  How  often  ? '  The  question  will  have 
answered  itself. 

I  turn  to  the  parable  rather  than  the  words  which  I 
have  read  as  our  starting-point,  to  seek  to  bring  out 
the  lessons  which  it  contains  in  regard  to  our  relations 
to  God,  and  to  one  another.  There  are  three  sections 
in  it :  the  king  and  his  debtor ;  the  forgiven  debtor 
and  his  debtor ;  and  the  forgiven  debtor  unforgiven 
because  unforgiving.  And  if  we  look  at  these  three 
points  I  think  we  shall  get  the  lessons  intended. 

I.  The  king  and  his  debtor. 

A  certain  king  has  servants,  whom  he  gathers 
together  to  give  in  their  reckoning.  And  one  of  them 
is  brought  that  owes  him  ten  thousand  talents.  Now, 
it  is  to  be  noticed  at  the  very  outset  that  the  analogy 
between  debt  and  sin,  though  real,  is  extremely  im- 
perfect. No  metaphor  of  that  sort  goes  on  all  fours, 
and  there  has  been  a  great  deal  of  harm  done  to 
theology  and  to  evangelical  religion  by  carrying  out 
too  completely  the  analogy  between  money  debts  and 
our  sins  against  God.  But  although  the  analogy  is 
imperfect,  it  is  very  real.  The  first  point  that  is  to  be 
brought  out  in  this  first  part  of  the  parable  is  the 
immense  magnitude  of  every  man's  transgressions 
against  God.  Numismatists  and  arithmeticians  may 
jangle  about  the  precise  amount  represented  by  the 
thousand  talents.  It  differs  according  to  the  talent 
which  is  taken  as  the  basis  of  the  calculation.  There 
were  several  talents  in  use  in  the  currency  of  ancient 
days.    But  the  very  point  of  the  expression  is  not  the 


40      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xviii. 

specification  of  an  exact  amount,  but  the  use  of  a  round 
number  which  is  to  suggest  an  undefined  magnitude. 
•Ten  thousand  talents,'  according  to  one  estimate,  is 
some  two  millions  and  a  quarter  of  pounds  sterling. 

But  I  would  point  out  that  the  amount  is  stated 
in  terms  of  talents,  and  any  talent  is  a  large  sum ; 
and  there  are  ten  thousand  of  these ;  and  the  reason 
why  the  account  is  made  out  in  terms  of  talents,  the 
largest  denomination  in  the  currency  of  the  period, 
is  because  every  sin  against  God  is  a  great  sin.  He 
being  what  He  is,  and  we  being  what  we  are,  and  sin 
being  what  it  is,  every  sin  is  large,  although  the  deed 
which  embodies  it  may  be,  when  measured  by  the 
world's  foot-rule,  very  small.  For  the  essence  of  sin  is 
rebellion  against  God  and  the  enthroning  of  self  as 
His  victorious  rival ;  and  all  rebellion  is  rebellion, 
whether  it  is  found  in  arms  in  the  field,  or  whether  it 
is  simply  sulkily  refusing  obedience  and  cherishing 
thoughts  of  treason.  We  are  always  apt  to  go  wrong 
in  our  estimate  of  the  great  and  small  in  human 
actions,  and,  although  the  terms  of  magnitude  do  not 
apply  properly  to  moral  questions  at  all,  there  is  no 
more  conspicuous  misuse  of  language  than  when  we 
speak  of  anything  which  has  in  it  the  virus  of  rebellion 
against  God,  and  the  breach  of  His  law,  as  being  a  small 
Jt-  sin.  It  may  be  a  small  act ;  it  is  a  great  sin.  Little 
rattlesnakes  are  snakes  ;  they  have  rattles  and  poison 
fangs  as  really  as  the  most  monstrous  of  the  brood  that 
coils  and  hisses  in  some  cave.  So  the  account  is  made 
out  in  terms  of  talents,  because  every  sin  is  a  great 
one.  I  need  not  dwell  upon  the  numerousness  that  is 
suggested.  '  Ten  thousand '  is  the  natural  current 
expression  for  a  number  that  is  not  innumerable,  but 
is  only  known  to  be  very  great.     The  psalmist  says : 


V.22]    FORGIVEN  AND  UNFORGIVING    41 

•  They  are  more  than  the  hairs  of  my  head.'  How  miany 
hairs  had  you  in  your  head,  David?  Do  you  know? 
'  No  ! '  And  how  many  sins  have  you  committed  ?  Do 
you  know  ?  '  No  ! '  The  number  is  beyond  count  by 
us,  though  it  may  be  counted  by  Him  against  whom 
they  are  done.  Do  you  believe  that  about  yourself, 
my  friend,  that  the  debit  side  of  your  account  has  filled 
all  the  page  and  has  to  be  carried  forward  on  to 
another?  Do  we  any  of  us  realise,  as  we  all  of  us 
ought  to  do,  the  infinite  number,  and  the  transcendent 
greatness,  of  our  transgressions  against  the  Father  ? 

But  the  next  point  to  be  noticed  is  the  stern  legal 
right  of  the  creditor.  It  sounds  harsh,  cruel,  almost 
brutal,  that  the  man  and  his  wife  and  his  children 
should  be  sold  into  slavery,  and  all  that  he  had  should 
be  taken  from  him,  in  order  to  go  some  little  way 
towards  the  reduction  of  the  enormous  debt  that  he 
owed.  Christ  puts  in  that  harsh  and  apparently  cruel 
conduct  in  the  story,  not  to  suggest  that  it  was  harsh 
and  cruel,  but  because  it  was  according  to  the  law  of 
the  time.  A  recognised  legal  right  was  exercised  by  the 
creditor  when  he  said,  'Take  him  ;  sell  him  for  a  slave, 
and  bring  me  what  he  fetches  in  the  open  markets.' 
So  that  we  have  here  suggested  the  solemn  thought 
of  the  right  that  divine  justice,  acting  according  to 
strict  retributive  law,  has  over  each  of  us.  Our  own 
consciences  attest  it  as  perfectly  within  the  scope  of 
the  divine  retributive  justice  that  our  enormous  sin 
should  bring  down  a  tremendous  punishment. 

I  said  that  the  analogy  between  sin  and  debt  was  a 
very  imperfect  one.  It  is  imperfect  in  regard  to  one 
point — viz.  the  implication  of  other  people  in  the  con- 
sequences of  the  man's  evil ;  for  although  it  is  quite 
true  that  'the  evil  that   men   do  lives   after   them,' 


42      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.  xvm. 

and  spreads  far  beyond  their  sight,  and  involves  many 
people,  no  other  is  amenable  to  divine  justice  for  the 
sinner's  debt.  It  is  quite  true  that,  when  we  do  an  evil 
action,  we  never  can  tell  how  far  its  wind-borne  seeds 
may  be  carried,  or  where  they  may  alight,  or  what  sort 
of  unwholesome  fruit  they  may  bear,  or  who  may  be 
poisoned  by  them ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  we,  and  we 
only,  are  responsible  for  our  individual  transgressions 
against  God.  'If  thou  be  wise,  thou  shalt  be  wise  for 
thyself;  and  if  thou  scornest,  thou  alone  shalt  bear  it.' 

The  same  imperfection  in  the  analogy  applies  to  the 
next  point  in  the  parable — viz.  the  bankrupt  debtor's 
prayer,  'Have  patience  with  me,  and  I  will  pay  thee 
all.'  Easy  to  promise !  I  wonder  how  long  it  would 
have  taken  a  penniless  bankrupt  to  scrape  together 
two  and  a  quarter  millions  of  pounds  ?  He  said  a  great 
deal  more  than  he  could  make  good.  But  the  language 
of  his  prayer  is  by  no  means  the  language  that  becomes 
a  penitent  at  God's  throne.  We  have  not  to  offer  to 
make  future  satisfaction.  No !  that  is  impossible. 
•  What  I  have  written  I  have  written,'  and  the  page, 
with  all  its  smudges  and  blots  and  misshapen  letters, 
cannot  be  made  other  than  it  is  by  any  future  pages 
fairly  written.  No  future  righteousness  has  any  power 
to  affect  the  guilt  of  past  sin.  There  is  one  thing  that 
does  discharge  the  writing  from  the  page.  Do  you 
remember  Paul's  words,  '  blotting  out  the  handwriting 
that  was  against  us — nailing  it  to  His  Cross '  ?  You 
sometimes  dip  your  pens  into  red  ink,  and  run  a  couple 
of  lines  across  the  page  of  an  account  that  is  done  with. 
Jesus  Christ  does  the  same  across  our  account,  and  the 
debt  is  non-existent,  because  He  has  died. 

But  the  prayer  is  the  expression,  if  not  of  penitence 
yet  of  petition,  and  all  the  stern  rigour  of  the  law's 


V.  22]    FORGIVEN  AND  UNFORGIVING     43 

requirement  at  once  melts  away,  and  the  king  who,  in 
the  former  words,  seemed  so  harsh,  now  is  almost 
incredibly  merciful.  For  he  not  only  cancels  the  debt, 
but  sets  the  man  free.  '  Thy  ways  are  not  as  our  ways  ; 
...  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  great 
is  His  mercy  toward  '  the  sinful  soul. 

II.  So  much,  then,  for  the  first  part  of  this  parable. 
Now  a  word  as  to  the  second,  the  forgiven  debtor  and 
his  debt. 

Our  Lord  uses  in  the  27th  and  28th  verses  of  our  text 
the  same  expression  very  significantly  and  emphatically. 
•  The  lord  of  that  servant  was  moved  with  compassion.' 
And  then  again,  in  the  28th  verse,  'But  that  servant 
went  out  and  found  one  of  his  fellow-servants.'  The 
repetition  of  the  same  phrase  hooks  the  two  halves 
together,  emphasises  the  identity  of  the  man,  and  the 
difference  of  his  demeanour,  on  the  two  occasions. 

The  conduct  described  is  almost  impossibly  disgusting 
and  truculent.  '  He  found  his  fellow-servant,  who 
owed  him  a  hundred  pence' — some  three  pounds,  ten 
shillings — and  with  the  hands  that  a  minute  before 
had  been  wrung  in  agony,  and  extended  in  entreaty,  j 
he  throttled  him ;  and  with  the  voice  that  had  been 
plaintively  pleading  for  mercy  a  minute  before,  he 
gruffly  growled, '  Pay  me  that  thou  owest.'  He  had  just 
come  through  an  agony  of  experience  that  might  have 
made  him  tender.  He  had  just  received  a  blessing  that 
might  have  made  his  heart  glow.  But  even  the  repeti-  \ 
tion  of  his  own  petition  does  not  touch  him,  and  when 
the  poor  fellow-servant,  with  his  paltry  debt,  says, 
•Have  patience  with  me,  and  I  will  pay  thee  all,'  it 
avails  nothing.  He  durst  not  sell  his  fellow-servant. 
God's  rights  over  a  man  are  more  than  any  man's 
over  another.    But  he  does  what  he  can.    He  will  not 


44      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  JMATTHEW     [ch.xviii, 

do  mucli  towards  recouping  himself  of  his  loan  by- 
flinging  the  poor  debtor  into  prison,  but  if  he  cannot 
get  his  ducats  he  will  gloat  over  his  '  pound  of  flesh.' 
So  he  hurries  him  off  to  gaol. 

Could  a  man  have  done  like  that  ?  Ah !  brethren, 
the  things  that  would  be  monstrous  in  our  relations  to 
one  another  are  common  in  our  relations  to  God. 
Every  day  we  see,  and,  alas !  do,  the  very  same  thing, 
in  our  measure  and  degree.  Do  you  never  treasure  up 
somebody's  slights?  Do  you  never  put  away  in  a 
pigeon-hole  for  safe-keeping,  endorsed  with  the  doer's 
name  on  the  back  of  it,  the  record  of  some  trivial 
offence  against  you?  It  is  but  as  a  penny  against  a 
talent,  for  the  worst  that  any  of  us  can  do  to  another 
is  nothing  as  compared  with  what  many  of  us  have 
been  doing  all  our  lives  toward  God.  I  dare  say  that 
some  of  us  will  go  out  from  this  place,  and  the  next 
man  that  we  meet  that  'rubs  us  the  wrong  way,'  or 
does  us  any  harm,  we  shall  score  down  his  act  against 
him  with  as  implacable  and  unmerciful  an  unf orgiving- 
ness  as  that  of  this  servant  in  the  parable.  Do  not 
believe  that  he  was  a  monster  of  iniquity.  He  was  just 
like  us.  We  all  of  us  have  one  human  heart,  and  this 
man's  crime  is  but  too  natural  to  us  all.  The  essence 
of  it  was  that  having  been  forgiven,  he  did  not  forgive. 

So,  then,  our  Lord  here  implies  the  principle  that 
God's  mercy  to  us  is  to  set  the  example  to  which  our 
dealings  with  others  is  to  be  conformed.  'Even  as  I 
had  m6rcy  on  thee '  plainly  proposes  that  miracle  of 
divine  forgiveness  as  our  pattern  as  well  as  our  hope. 
The  world's  morality  recognises  the  duty  of  forgiveness. 
Christ  shows  us  God's  forgiveness  as  at  once  the  model 
which  is  the  perfect  realisation  of  the  idea  in  its  com- 
pleteness and  inexhaustibleness,  and  also  the  motive 


V.  22]    FORGIVEN  AND  UNFORGIVING    45 

which,  brought  into  our  experience,  inclines  and  enables 
us  to  forgive. 

III.  And  now  I  come  to  the  last  point  of  the  text — 
the  debtor  who  had  been  forgiven  falling  back  into  the 
ranks  of  the  unforgiven,  because  he  does  not  forgive. 

The  fellow-servants  were  very  much  disgusted,  no 
doubt.  Our  consciences  work  a  great  deal  more  rapidly, 
and  rigidly,  about  other  people's  faults  than  they  do 
about  our  own.  And  nine  out  of  ten  of  these  fellow- 
servants  that  were  very  sorry,  and  ran  and  told  the 
king,  would  have  done  exactly  the  same  thing  them- 
selves. The  king,  for  the  first  time,  is  wroth.  We  do 
not  read  that  he  was  so  before,  when  the  debt  only 
was  in  question ;  but  such  unforgiving  harshness,  after 
the  experience  of  such  merciful  forgiveness,  rouses  his 
righteous  indignation.  The  unmercif  ulness  of  Christian 
people  is  a  worse  sin  than  many  a  deed  that  goes  by 
very  ugly  names  amongst  men.  And  so  the  judgment 
that  falls  upon  this  evil-doer,  who,  by  his  truculence  to 
his  fellow-servant,  had  betrayed  the  baseness  of  his 
nature  and  the  ingratitude  of  his  heart,  is,  'Put  him 
back  where  he  was !  Tie  the  two  and  a  quarter  millions 
round  his  neck  again !  Let  us  see  what  he  will  do  by 
way  of  discharging  it  now ! ' 

Now,  do  not  let  any  theological  systems  prevent  you 
from  recognising  the  solemn  truth  that  underlies  that 
representation,  that  there  may  be  things  in  the  hearts 
and  conduct  of  forgiven  Christians  which  may  cancel 
the  cancelling  of  their  debt,  and  bring  it  all  back  again. 
No  man  can  cherish  the  malicious  disposition  that 
treasures  up  offences  against  himself,  and  at  the  same 
moment  feel  that  the  divine  love  is  wrapping  him 
round  in  its  warm  folds.  If  we  are  to  retain  our  con- 
sciousness of  having  been  forgiven  by  God,  and  received 


46        GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xix. 

into  the  amplitude  of  His  heart,  we  must,  in  our  measure 
and  degree,  im.itate  that  on  which  we  trust,  and  be 
mirrors  of  the  divine  mercy  which  we  say  has  saved 
us. 

Our  parable  lays  equal  stress  on  two  things.  First, 
that  the  foundation  of  all  real  mercifulness  in  men  is 
the  reception  of  forgiving  mercy  from  God.  We  must 
have  experienced  it  before  we  can  exercise  it.  And, 
second,  we  must  exercise  it,  if  we  desire  to  continue  to 
experience  it.  '  Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for  they  shall 
obtain  mercy.'  That  applies  to  Christian  people.  But 
behind  that  there  lies  the  other  truth,  that  in  order  to 
be  merciful  we  must  first  of  all  have* received  the  initial 
mercy  of  cancelled  transgression. 

So,  dear  friends,  here  are  the  two  lessons  for  every 
one  of  us.  First,  to  recognise  our  debt,  and  go  to  Him 
in  whom  God  is  well  pleased,  for  its  abolishment  and 
forgiveness ;  and  then  to  go  out  into  the  world,  and 
live  like  Him,  and  show  to  others  love  kindled  by  and 
kindred  to  that  to  which  we  trust  for  our  own  salva- 
tion. '  Be  ye  therefore  imitators  of  God,  as  beloved 
children,  and  walk  in  love,  as  God  also  hath  loved  us.' 


THE  REQUIREMENTS  OF  THE  KING 

'  And,  behold,  one  came  and  said  unto  Him,  Good  Master,  what  good  thing  shall 
I  do,  that  I  may  have  eternal  life  ?  17.  And  He  said  unto  him,  Why  callest  thou 
Me  good?  there  is  none  good  but  One,  that  is,  God  :  but  if  thou  wilt  enter  into  life, 
keep  the  commandments.  18.  He  saithunto  Him,  Which?  Jesus  said.  Thou  shalt 
do  no  murder.  Thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery.  Thou  shalt  not  steal.  Thou  shalb 
not  bear  false  witness,  19.  Honour  thy  father  and  thy  mother :  and.  Thou  shalt 
love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself.  20.  The  young  man  saith  unto  Him,  All  these  things 
have  I  kept  from  my  youth  up :  what  lack  I  yet?  21.  Jesus  said  unto  him,  If  thou 
wilt  be  perfect,  go  and  sell  that  thou  hast,  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have 
treasure  in  heaven  :  and  come  and  follow  Me.  22.  But  when  the  young  man  heard 
that  saying,  he  went  away  sorrowful :  for  he  had  great  possessions.  23.  Then  said 
Jeans  unto  His  disciples.  Verily  I  say  unto  you.  That  a  rich  man  shall  hardly  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.   21.  And  again  I  say  unto  you,  It  is  easier  for  a  camel 


vs.16-26]  REQUIREMENTS  OF  THE  KING  47 

to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom 
of  God.  25.  When  His  disciples  heard  it,  they  were  exceedingly  amazed,  saying. 
Who  then  can  be  saved?  26.  But  Jesus  beheld  them,  and  said  unto  them,  With 
men  this  is  impossible ;  but  with  God  all  things  are  possible.'— Matt.  xix.  16-26. 

We  have  here  one  of  the  saddest  stories  in  the  gospels. 
It  is  a  true  soul's  tragedy.  The  young  man  is  in  earnest, 
but  his  earnestness  has  not  volume  and  force  enough 
to  float  him  over  the  bar.  He  wishes  to  have  some 
great  thing  bidden  him  to  do,  but  he  recoils  from  the 
sharp  test  which  Christ  imposes.  He  truly  wants  the 
prize,  but  the  cost  is  too  great ;  and  yet  he  wishes  it  so 
much  that  he  goes  away  without  it  in  deep  sorrow, 
which  perhaps,  at  another  day,  ripened  into  the  resolve 
which  then  was  too  high  for  him.  There  is  a  certain 
severity  in  our  Lord's  tone,  an  absence  of  recognition 
of  the  much  good  in  the  young  man,  and  a  naked 
stringency  in  His  demand  from  him,  which  sound 
almost  harsh,  but  which  are  set  in  their  true  light  by 
Mark's  note,  that  Jesus  '  loved  him,'  and  therefore 
treated  him  thus.  The  truest  way  to  draw  ingenuous 
souls  is  not  to  flatter,  nor  to  make  entrance  easy  by 
dropping  the  standard  or  hiding  the  requirements,  but 
to  call  out  all  their  energy  by  setting  before  them  the 
lofty  ideal.  Easy-going  disciples  are  easily  made — and 
lost.  Thorough-going  ones  are  most  surely  won  by 
calling  for  entire  surrender. 

I.  We  may  gather  together  the  earlier  part  of  the 
conversation,  as  introductory  to  the  Lord's  require- 
ment (vs.  16-20),  in  which  we  have  the  picture  of  a  real 
though  imperfect  moral  earnestness,  and  may  note 
how  Christ  deals  with  it.  Matthew  tells  us  that  the 
questioner  was  young  and  rich.  Luke  adds  that  he  was 
a  '  ruler ' — a  synagogue  official,  that  is — which  was  un- 
usual for  a  young  man,  and  indicates  that  his  legal 
blamelessness  was  recognised.    Mark  adds  one  of  his 


48        GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xix. 

touches,  which  are  not  only  picturesque,  but  character- 
revealing,  by  the  information  that  he  came  'running* 
to  Jesus  in  the  way,  so  eager  was  he,  and  fell  at  His 
feet,  so  reverential  was  he.  His  first  question  is  singu- 
larly compacted  of  good  and  error.  The  fact  that  he 
came  to  Christ  for  a  purely  religious  purpose,  not  seek- 
ing personal  advantage  for  himself  or  for  others,  like 
the  crowds  who  followed  for  loaves  and  cures,  nor  laying 
traps  for  Him  with  puzzles  which  might  entangle  Him 
with  the  authorities,  nor  asking  theological  questions 
for  curiosity,  but  honestly  and  earnestly  desiring  to  be 
helped  to  lay  hold  of  eternal  life,  is  to  be  put  down  to  his 
credit.    He  is  right  in  counting  it  the  highest  blessing. 

Where  had  he  got  hold  of  the  thought  of  'eternal 
life '  ?  It  was  miles  above  the  dusty  speculations  and 
casuistries  of  the  rabbis.  Probably  from  Christ  Him- 
self. He  was  right  in  recognising  that  the  conditions 
of  possessing  it  were  moral,  but  his  conception  of  'good' 
was  superficial,  and  he  thought  more  of  doing  good 
than  of  being  good,  and  of  the  desired  life  as  payment 
for  meritorious  actions.  In  a  word,  he  stood  at  the 
point  of  view  of  the  old  dispensation.  '  This  do,  and 
thou  shalt  live,'  was  his  belief;  and  what  he  wished 
was  further  instruction  as  to  what '  this '  was.  He  was 
to  be  praised  in  that  he^  docilely  brought  his  question 
to  Jesus,  even  though,  as  Christ's  answer  shows,  there 
was  error  mingling  in  his  docility.  Such  is  the  char- 
acter— a  young  man,  rich,  influential,  touched  with  real 
longings  for  the  highest  life,  ready,  so  far  as  he 
knows  himself,  to  do  whatever  he  is  bidden,  in  order 
to  secure  it. 

We  might  have  expected  Christ,  who  opened  His  arms 
wide  for  publicans  and  harlots,  to  have  welconpied  this 
fair,  ingenuous  seeker  with  some  kindly  word.    But  He 


y 


V8.16-26]  REQUIREMENTS  OF  THE  KING  49 

Las  none  for  him.  We  adopt  the  reading  of  the  Revised 
Version,  in  which  our  Lord's  first  word  is  repellent.  It 
is  in  effect — '  There  is  no  need  for  your  question,  which 
answers  itself.  There  is  one  good  Being,  the  source 
and  type  of  every  good  thing,  and  therefore  the  good, 
which  you  ask  about,  can  only  be  conformity  to  His 
will.  You  need  not  come  to  Me  to  know  what  you  are 
to  do.'  He  relegates  the  questioner,  not  to  his  own 
conscience,  but  to  the  authoritative  revealed  will  of 
God  in  the  law.  Modern  views  of  Christ's  work,  which 
put  all  its  stress  on  the  perfection  of  His  moral  char- 
acter, and  His  office  as  a  pattern  of  righteousness,  may 
well  be  rebuked  by  the  fact  that  He  expressly  dis- 
claimed this  character,  arid  declared  that,  if  He  was 
only  to  be  regarded  as  republishing  the  law  of  human 
conduct,  His  work  was  needless.  Men  have  enough 
knowledge  of  what  they  must  do  to  enter  into  life,  with- 
out Jesus  Christ.  No  doubt,  Christ's  moral  teaching 
transcends  that  given  of  old ;  but  His  special  work  was 
not  to  tell  men  what  to  do,  but  to  make  it  possible  for 
them  to  do  it ;  to  give,  not  the  law,  but  the  power,  both 
the  motive  and  the  impulse,  which  will  fulfil  the  law. 
On  another  occasion  He  answered  a  similar  question 
in  a  different  manner.  When  the  Jews  asked  Him, 
♦What  must  we  do,  that  we  may  work  the  works  of 
God  ? '  He  replied  by  the  plain  evangelical  statement : 
*  This  is  the  work  of  God,  that  ye  believe  on  Him  whom 
He  hath  sent.'  Why  did  He  not  answer  the  young 
ruler  thus?  Only  because  He  knew  that  he  needed  to 
be  led  to  that  thought  by  having  his  own  self-com- 
placency shattered,  and  the  clinging  of  his  soul  to 
earth  laid  bare.  The  whole  treatment  of  him  here  is 
meant  to  bring  him  to  the  apprehension  of  faith  as 
preceding  all  truly  good  work. 

VOL.  III.  d 


50        GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xix. 

The  young  man's  second  question  says  a  great  deal 
in  its  one  word.  It  indicates  astonishment  at  being 
remanded  to  these  old,  well-worn  precepts,  and  might 
be  rendered,  'What  sort  of  commandments?'  as  if 
taking  it  for  granted  that  they  must  be  new  and 
peculiar.  It  is  the  same  spirit  as  that  which  in  all  ages 
has  led  men  who  with  partial  insight  longed  after 
eternal  life,  to  seek  it  by  fantastic  and  unusual  roads 
of  extraordinary  sacrifices  or  services — the  spirit  which 
filled  monasteries,  and  invented  hair  shirts,  and  fast- 
ings, and  swinging  with  hooks  in  your  back  at  Hindoo 
festivals.  The  craving  for  more  than  ordinary  '  good 
works'  shows  a  profound  mistake  in  the  estimate  of 
the  ordinary,  and  a  fatal  blunder  as  to  the  relation 
between  '  goodness '  and  '  eternal  life.' 

So  Christ  answers  the  question  by  quoting  the  second 
^half  of  the  Decalogue,  which  deals  with  the  homeliest 
'duties,  and  appending  to  it  the  summary  of  the  law, 
which  requires  love  to  our  neighbour  as  to  ourselves. 
Why  does  He  omit  the  earlier  half?  Probably  because 
He  would  meet  the  error  of  the  question,  by  presenting 
only  the  plainest,  most  familiar  commandments,  and 
because  He  desired  to  excite  the  consciousness  of  defi- 
ciency, which  could  be  most  easily  done  in  connection 
with  these. 

There  is  a  touch  of  impatience  in  the  rejoinder,  *  All 
these  have  I  kept,'  and  more  than  a  touch  of  self- 
satisfaction.  The  law  has  failed  to  accomplish  one  of 
its  chief  purposes  in  the  young  man,  in  that  it  has  not 
taught  him  his  sinfulness.  No  doubt  he  had  a  right  to 
say  that  his  outward  life  had  been  free  from  breaches 
of  such  very  elementary  morality  which  any  old 
woman  could  have  taught  him.  He  had  never  gone 
below  the  surface  of  the  commandments,  nor  below 


vs.16-26]  REQUIREMENTS  OF  THE  KING  51 

the  surface  of  his  acts,  or  he  would  not  have  answered 
so  jauntily.  He  had  yet  to  learn  that  the  height  of 
•goodness'  is  reached,  not  by  adding  some  strange  new 
performances  to  the  threadbare  precepts  of  everyday 
duty,  but  by  digging  deep  into  these,  and  bottoming 
the  fabric  of  our  lives  on  their  inmost  spirit.  He  had 
yet  to  learn  that  whoever  says,  '  All  these  have  I  kept,' 
thereby  convicts  himself  of  understanding  neither  them 
nor  himself. 

Still  he  was  not  at  rest,  although  he  had,  as  he 
fancied,  kept  them  all.  His  last  question  is  a  plaintive, 
honest  acknowledgment  of  the  hungry  void  within, 
which  no  round  of  outward  obediences  can  ever  fill. 
He  knows  that  he  has  not  the  inner  fountain  springing 
up  into  eternal  life.  He  is  dimly  aware  of  something 
wanting,  whether  in  his  obedience  or  no,  at  all  events 
in  his  peace ;  and  he  is  right  in  believing  that  the 
reason  for  that  conscious  void  is  something  wanting  in 
his  conduct.  But  he  will  not  learn  what  Christ  has 
been  trying  to  teach  him,  that  he  needs  no  new  com- 
mandment, but  a  deeper  understanding  and  keeping 
of  the  old.  Hence  his  question,  half  a  wail  of  a  hungry 
heart,  half  petulant  impatience  with  Christ's  reitera- 
tion of  obvious  duties.  There  are  multitudes  of  this 
kind  in  all  ages,  honestly  wishing  to  lay  hold  of  eternal 
life,  able  to  point  to  virtuous  conduct,  anxious  to  know 
and  do  anything  lacking,  and  yet  painfully  certain 
that  something  is  wanting  somewhere. 

II.  Now  comes  the  sharp-pointed  test,  which  pricks 
the  brilliant  bubble.  Mark  tells  us  that  Jesus  accom- 
panied His  word  with  one  of  those  looks  which  searched 
a  soul,  and  bore  His  love  into  it.  '  If  thou  wouldest 
be  perfect,'  takes  up  the  confession  of  something  '  lack- 
ing,' and  shows  what  that  is.     It  is  unnecessary  to 


52        GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xix. 

remark  that  this  commandment  to  sell  all  and  give  to 
the  poor  is  intended  only  for  the  individual  case.  No 
other  would-be  disciple  was  called  upon  to  do  so.  It 
cannot  be  meant  for  others;  for,  if  all  were  sellers, 
where  would  the  buyers  be?  Nor  need  we  do  more 
than  point  out  that  the  command  of  renunciation  is 
only  half  of  Christ's  answer,  the  other  being,  'Come, 
follow  Me.'  But  we  are  not  to  slide  easily  over  the  pre- 
cept with  the  comfortable  thought  that  it  was  special 
treatment  for  a  special  case.  The  principle  involved  in 
it  is  medicine  for  all,  and  the  only  way  of  healing  for 
any.  This  man  was  tied  to  earth  by  the  cords  of  his 
wealth.  They  did  not  hinder  him  from  keeping  the 
commandments,  for  he  had  no  temptations  to  murder, 
or  adultery,  or  theft,  or  neglect  of  parents.  But  they 
did  hinder  him  from  giving  his  whole  self  up,  and  from 
regarding  eternal  life  as  the  most  precious  of  all  things. 
Therefore  for  him  there  was  no  safety  short  of  entire 
outward  denuding  himself  of  them ;  and,  if  he  was  in 
earnest  out  and  out  in  his  questions,  here  was  a  new 
thing  for  him  to  do.  Others  are  hindered  by  other 
things,  and  they  are  called  to  abandon  these.  The  one 
thing  needful  for  entrance  into  life  is  at  bottom  self- 
surrender,  and  the  casting  away  of  all  else  for  its 
sovereign  sake.  '  I  do  count  them  but  dung '  must  be 
the  language  of  every  one  who  will  win  Christ.  The 
hands  must  be  emptied  of  treasures,  and  the  heart 
swept  clear  of  lesser  loves,  if  He  is  to  be  grasped  by  our 
hands,  and  to  dwell  in  our  hearts.  More  of  us  than  we 
are  willing  to  believe  are  kept  from  entire  surrender  to 
Jesus  Christ,  by  money  and  worldly  possessions  ;  and 
many  professing  Christians  are  kept  shrivelled  and 
weak  and  joyless  because  they  love  their  wealth 
more  than  their  Lord,  and  would  think  it  madness  to 


V8.16-26]  REQUIREMENTS  OF  THE  KING  53 

do  as  this  man  was  bidden  to  do.  When  ballast  is 
thrown  out,  the  balloon  shoots  up.  A  general  unlading 
of  the  •  thick  clay '  which  weighs  down  the  Christian 
life  of  England,  would  let  thousands  soar  to  heights 
which  they  will  never  reach  as  long  as  they  love 
money  and  what  it  buys  as  much  as  they  do.  The 
letter  of  this  commandment  may  be  only  applicable  in 
a  special  case  (though,  perhaps,  this  one  young  man 
was  not  the  only  human  being  that  ever  needed  this 
treatment),  but  the  spirit  is  of  universal  application. 
No  man  enters  into  life  who  does  not  count  all  things 
but  loss,  and  does  not  die  to  them  all,  that  he  may 
follow  Christ. 

III.  Then  comes  the  collapse  of  all  the  enthusiasm. 
The  questioner's  earnestness  chills  at  the  touch  of  the 
test.  What  has  become  of  the  eagerness  which  brought 
him  running  to  Jesus,  and  of  the  willingness  to  do  any 
hard  task  to  which  he  was  set  ?  It  was  real,  but  shallow. 
It  deceived  himself.  But  Christ's  words  cut  down  to 
the  inner  man,  and  laid  bare  for  his  own  inspection  the 
hard  core  of  selfish  worldliness  which  lay  beneath. 
How  many  radiant  enthusiasms,  which  cheat  their 
subjects  quite  as  much  as  their  beholders,  disappear 
like  tinted  mist  when  the  hard  facts  of  self-sacrifice 
strike  against  them  !  How  much  sheer  worldliness  dis- 
guises itself  from  itself  and  from  others  in  glistering 
garments  of  noble  sentiments,  which  fall  at  a  touch 
when  real  giving  up  is  called  for,  and  show  the  ugly 
thing  below !  How  much  '  religion '  goes  about  the 
world,  and  gets  made  '  a  ruler '  of  the  synagogue  in 
recognition  of  its  excellence,  which  needs  but  this 
Ithuriel's  spear  to  start  up  in  its  own  shape !  The  com- 
pleteness and  immediateness  of  the  collapse  are  notice- 
able.   The  young  man  seems  to  speak  no  word,  and  to 


54        GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xix. 

take  no  time  for  reflection.  He  stands  for  a  moment 
as  if  stunned,  and  then  silently  turns  away.  What  a 
moment !  his  fate  hung  on  it.  Once  more  we  see  the 
awful  mystery  enacted  before  our  eyes,  of  a  soul 
gathering  up  its  power  to  put  away  life.  Who  will  say 
that  the  decision  of  a  moment,  which  is  the  outcome  of 
all  the  past,  may  not  fix  the  whole  future  ?  This  man 
had  never  before  been  consciously  brought  to  the 
fork  in  the  road;  but  now  the  two  ways  are  before 
him,  and,  knowingly,  he  chooses  the  worse.  Christ  did 
not  desire  him  to  do  so ;  but  He  did  desire  that  he 
should  choose,  and  should  know  that  he  did.  It  was 
the  truest  kindness  to  tear  away  the  veil  of  surface 
goodness  which  hid  him  from  himself,  and  to  force  him 
to  a  conscious  decision. 

One  sign  of  grace  he  does  give,  in  that  he  went  away 
'  sorrowful.'  He  is  not  angry  nor  careless.  He  cannot 
see  the  fair  prospect  of  the  eternal  life,  which  he  had 
in  some  real  fashion  desired,  fade  away,  without  a 
pang.  If  he  goes  back  to  the  world,  he  goes  back  feel- 
ing more  acutely  than  ever  that  it  cannot  satisfy  him. 
He  loves  it  too  well  to  give  it  up,  but  not  enough  to  feel 
that  it  is  enough.  Surely,  in  coming  days,  that  godly 
sorrow  would  work  a  change  of  the  foolish  choice,  and 
we  may  hope  that  he  found  no  rest  till  he  cast  away 
all  else  to  make  Christ  his  own.  A  soul  which  has 
travelled  as  far  on  the  road  to  life  eternal  as  this  man 
had  done,  can  scarcely  thereafter  walk  the  broad  road 
of  selfishness  and  death  with  entire  satisfaction. 

IV.  The  section  closes  with  Christ's  comment  on  the 
sad  incident.  He  speaks  no  word  of  condemnation,  but 
passes  at  once  from  the  individual  to  the  general 
lesson  of  the  difficulty  which  rich  men  (or,  as  He  ex- 
plains it  in  Mark,  men  who  '  trust  in  riches ')  have  in 


vs.  16-26]  HEQUIREMENTS  OF  THE  KING  55 

entering  the  kingdom.  The  reflection  breathes  a  tone 
of  pity,  and  is  not  so  much  blame  as  a  merciful  recog- 
nition of  special  temptations  which  aifect  His  judg- 
ment, and  should  modify  ours.  A  camel  with  its  great 
body,  long  neck,  and  hump,  struggling  to  get  through 
a  needle's  eye,  is  their  emblem.  It  is  a  new  thing  to 
pity  rich  men,  or  to  think  of  their  wealth  as  disqualify- 
ing them  fbr  anything.  The  disciples,  with  childish 
ndiveU,  wonder.  We  may  wonder  that  they  wondered. 
They  could  not  understand  what  sort  of  a  kingdom  it 
was  into  which  capitalists  would  find  entrance  diffi- 
cult. All  doors  fly  open  for  them  to-day,  as  then.  They 
do  not  find  much  difficulty  in  getting  into  the  church, 
however  hard  it  may  be  to  get  into  the  kingdom.  But 
it  still  remains  true  that  the  man  who  has  wealth  has 
a  hindrance  to  his  religious  character,  which,  like  all 
hindrances,  may  be  made  a  help  by  the  use  he  makes 
of  it ;  and  that  the  man  who  trusts  in  riches,  which  he 
who  possesses  them  is  wofuUy  likely  to  do,  has  made 
the  hindrance  into  a  barrier  which  he  cannot  pass. 

That  is  a  lesson  which  commercial  nations,  like 
England,  have  need  to  lay  to  heart,  not  as  a  worn- 
out  saying  of  the  Bible,  which  means  very  little  for  us, 
but  as  heavy  with  significance,  and  pointing  to  the 
special  dangers  which  beset  Christian  perfection. 

So  real  is  the  peril  of  riches,  that  Christ  would  have 
His  disciples  regard  the  victory  over  it  as  beyond  our 
human  power,  and  beckons  us  away  from  the  effort  to 
overcome  the  love  of  the  world  in  our  strength,  point- 
ing us  to  God,  in  whose  mighty  grace,  breathed  into 
our  feeble  wills  and  treacherous  hearts,  is  the  only 
force  which  can  overcome  the  attraction  of  perishable 
riches,  and  make  any  of  us  willing  or  able  to  renounce 
them  all  that  we  may  win  Christ.    The  young  ruler  had 


56         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xx. 

just  shown  that  *  with  men  this  is  impossible.'  Perhaps 
he  still  lingered  near  enough  to  catch  the  assurance 
that  the  surrender,  which  had  been  too  much  for  him 
to  achieve,  might  yet  be  joyfully  made,  since  *  with  God 
all  things  are  possible.' 


NEAREST  TO  CHRIST 

'  To  sit  on  My  right  hand,  and  on  My  left,  is  not  Mine  to  give,  but  it  shall  be 
given  to  them  for  whom  it  is  prepared  of  My  Father,'— Matt.  xx.  23. 

You  will  observe  that  an  unusually  long  supplement 
is  inserted  by  our  translators  in  this  verse.  That 
supplement  is  quite  unnecessary,  and,  as  is  sometimes 
the  case,  is  even  worse  than  unnecessary.  It  positively 
obscures  the  true  meaning  of  the  words  before  us. 

As  they  stand  in  our  Bibles,  the  impression  that  they 
-h  leave  upon  one's  mind  is  that  Christ  in  them  abjures 
the  power  of  giving  to  His  disciples  their  places  in  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  and  declares  that  it  belongs  not 
to  His  function,  but  relegates  it,  to  His  own  exclusion, 
to  the  Father ;  whereas  what  He  says  is  the  very 
opposite  of  this.  He  does  not  put  aside  the  granting 
of  places  at  His  right  hand  or  His  left  as  not  being 
within  His  province,  but  He  states  the  principles  and 
conditions  on  which  He  does  make  such  a  grant,  and  so 
is  really  claiming  it  as  in  His  province.  All  that  would 
have  been  a  great  deal  clearer  if  our  translators  had 
been  contented  to  render  the  words  that  they  found 
before  them  in  the  Book,  without  addition,  and  to 
■*'  read,  '  To  sit  on  My  right  hand,  and  on  My  left,  is  not 
Mine  to  give,  but  to  them  for  whom  it  is  prepared  of 
My  Father.' 

Another  introductory  remark  may  be  made,  to  the 


V.  23]  NEAREST  TO  CHRIST  57 

effect  that  our  Lord  does  not  put  aside  this  prayer  of 
His  apostles  as  if  they  were  seeking  an  impossible 
thing.  It  is  never  safe,  I  know,  to  argue  from  the 
silence  of  Scripture.  There  may  be  many  reasons  for 
that  silence  beyond  our  ken  in  any  given  case ;  but 
still  it  does  strike  one  as  noteworthy  that,  when  this 
fond  mother  and  her  ambitious  sons  came  with  their 
prayer  for  pre-eminence  in  His  kingdom,  our  Lord  did 
not  answer  what  would  have  been  so  obvious  to  answer 
if  it  had  been  true,  *  You  are  asking  a  thing  which 
cannot  be  granted  to  anybody,  for  they  are  all  upon 
one  level  in  that  kingdom  of  the  heavens.'  He  says 
by  implication  the  very  opposite.  Not  only  does  His 
silence  confirm  their  belief  that  when  He  came  in  His 
glory,  some  would  be  closer  to  His  side  than  others ; 
but  the  plain  statement  of  the  text  is  that,  in  the  depth 
of  the  eternal  counsels,  and  by  the  preparation  of 
divine  grace,  there  were  thrones  nearest  to  His  own 
which  some  men  should  fill.  He  does  not  say,  'You 
are  asking  what  cannot  be.'  He  does  say,  '  There  are 
men  for  whom  it  is  prepared  of  My  Father.' 

And  then,  still  further,  Jesus  does  not  condemn  the 
prayer  as  indicating  a  wrong  state  of  mind  on  the  part 
of  James  and  John,  though  good  and  bad  were 
strangely  mingled  in  it.  We  are  told  nowadays  that 
it  is  a  very  selfish  thing,  far  below  the  lofty  height 
to  which  our  transcendental  teachers  have  attained, 
to  be  heartened  and  encouraged,  strengthened  and 
quickened,  by  the  prospect  of  the  crown  and  the  rest 
that  remain  for  the  people  of  God.  If  so,  Christ 
ought  to  have  turned  round  to  these  men,  and  have 
rebuked  the  passion  for  reward,  which,  according  to 
this  new  light,  is  so  unworthy  and  so  low.  But,  instead 
pf  that.  He  confines  Himself  to  explaining  the  condi- 


58         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.  xx. 

tions  on  which  the  fulfilment  of  the  desire  is  possible, 
and  by  implication  permits  and  approves  the  desire. 
•  You  want  to  sit  on  My  right  hand  and  on  My  left,  do 
you  ?  Then  be  it  so.  You  may  do  so  if  you  like.  Are 
you  ready  to  accept  the  conditions?  It  is  well  that 
you  should  want  it, — not  for  the  sake  of  being  above 
your  brethren,  but  for  the  sake  of  being  nearest  to  Me. 
Hearken !  Are  ye  able  to  drink  of  the  cup  that  I  shall 
drink  of?'  They  say  unto  Him  (and  I  do  not  know 
that  there  are  anywhere  grander  words  than  the  calm, 
swift,  unhesitating,  modest,  and  yet  confident  answer 
of  these  two  men),  'We  are  able.'  '  You  shall  have  your 
desire  if  you  fulfil  the  conditions.  It  is  given  to  them 
for  whom  it  is  prepared  of  My  Father.' 

I.  So,  then,  if  we  rightly  understand  these  words, 
and  take  them  without  the  unfortunate  comment 
which  our  translators  have  inserted,  they  contain, 
first,  the  principle  that  some  will  be  nearer  Christ 
than  others  in  that  heavenly  kingdom. 

As  I  have  said,  the  words  of  our  Lord  do  not  merely 
imply,  by  the  absence  of  all  hint  that  these  disciples' 
petition  was  impossible,  the  existence  of  degrees 
among  the  subjects  of  His  heavenly  kingdom,  but 
articulately  affirm  that  such  variety  is  provided  for 
by  the  preparation  of  the  Father.  Probably  the  two 
brothers  thought  that  they  were  only  asking  for  pre- 
eminence in  an  earthly  kingdom,  and  had  no  idea  that 
their  prayer  pointed  beyond  the  grave ;  but  that  con- 
fusion of  thought  could  not  be  cured  in  their  then 
stage  of  growth,  and  our  Lord  therefore  leaves  it 
untouched.  But  the  other  error,  if  it  were  an  error, 
was  of  a  different  kind,  and  might,  for  aught  that  one 
sees,  have  been  set  right  in  a  moment.  Instead  of 
which  the  answer  adopts  it,  and  seems  to  set  Christ's 


V.  23]  NEAREST  TO  CHRIST  59 

own  confirmation  on  it,  as  being  no  Jewish  dream,  but 
a  truth. 

They  were  asking  for  earth.  He  answers  —  for 
heaven.  He  leaves  them  to  learn  in  after  days — when 
the  one  was  slain  with  the  sword,  first  martyr  among 
the  apostles,  and  the  other  lived  to  see  them  all  pass 
to  their  thrones,  while  he  remained  the  '  companion 
in  tribulation  '  of  the  second  generation  of  the  Church 
— how  far  off  was  the  fulfilment  which  they  fancied 
so  near. 

We  need  not  be  surprised  that  so  large  a  truth 
should  be  spoken  by  Christ  so  quietly,  and  as  it  were 
incidentally.  For  that  is  in  keeping  with  His  whole 
tone  when  speaking  of  the  unseen  world.  One  knows 
not  whether  to  wonder  more  at  the  decisive  authority 
with  which  He  tells  us  of  that  mysterious  region,  or 
at  the  small  space  which  such  revelations  occupy  in 
His  words.  There  is  an  air  of  simplicity  and  uncon- 
sciousness, and  withal  of  authority,  and  withal  of 
divine  reticence  about  them  all,  which  are  in  full 
harmony  with  the  belief  that  Christ  speaking  of 
heaven  speaks  of  that  He  knows,  and  testifies  that  He 
hath  seen. 

That  truth  to  which,  as  we  think,  our  Lord's  words 
here  inevitably  lead,  is  distinctly  taught  in  many  other 
places  of  Scripture.  We  should  have  had  less  difficulty 
about  it,  and  should  have  felt  more  what  a  solemn  and 
stimulating  thought  it  is,  if  we  bad  tried  a  little  more 
than  most  of  us  do  to  keep  clear  before  us  what  really 
is  the  essential  of  that  future  life,  what  is  the  lustre  of 
its  light,  the  heaven  of  heaven,  the  glory  of  the  glory. 
Men  talk  about  physical  theories  of  another  life.  I 
suppose  they  are  possible.  They  seem  to  me  infinitely 
unimportant.    Warm  imaginations,  working  by  sense, 


60  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xx. 

write  books  about  a  future  state  which  wonderfully 
succeed  in  making  it  real  by  making  it  earthly.  Some 
of  them  read  more  like  a  book  of  travels  in  this  world 
than  forecastings  of  the  next.  They  may  be  true  or 
not.  It  does  not  matter  one  whit.  I  believe  that 
heaven  is  a  place.  I  believe  that  the  corporeity  of  our 
future  life  is  essential  to  the  perfection  of  it.  I  believe 
that  Christ  wears,  and  will  wear  for  ever,  a  glorified 
human  body.  I  believe  that  that  involves  locality, 
circumstance,  external  occupations  ;  and  I  say,  all  that 
being  so,  and  in  its  own  place  very  important,  yet  if 
we  stop  there,  we  have  no  vision  of  the  real  light  that 
makes  the  lustre,  no  true  idea  of  the  glory  that  makes 
the  blessedness. 

For  what  is  heaven  ?  Likeness  to  God,  love,  purity, 
fellowship  with  Him ;  the  condition  of  the  spirit  and 
the  relation  of  the  soul  to  Him.  The  noblest  truth 
about  the  future  world  flows  from  the  words  of  our 
Master — '  This  is  life  eternal,  to  know  Thee,  the  only 
true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  Thou  hast  sent.' 
Not '  this  brings  ' ;  not '  this  will  lead  up  to ' ;  not  *  this 
will  draw  after  it';  but  'this  is';  and  whosoever 
pt.S8essei3  that  eternal  life  hath  already  in  him  the 
germ  of  ail  the  glories  that  are  round  the  throne,  and 
the  blesisednefes  that  fills  the  hearts  of  perfected  spirits. 

If  so,  if  already  eternal  life  in  the  bud  staindifcth  in 
the  knowledge  of  God  iu  Christ,  what  makes  its 
fruitage  and  completdness  ?  Surely,  not  physical 
changes  or  the  circumstances  of  heaven,  at  least  not 
these  primarily,  however  much  such  changes  and 
circumstances  may  subserve  our  blessedness  there, 
and  the  anticipation  of  them  may  help  our  sense- 
bound  hopes  here.  But  the  completeness  of  heaven  is 
the  completion  of  our  knowledge  of  God  and  Christ, 


V.  23]  NEAREST  TO  CHRIST  61 

with  all  the  perfecting  of  spirit  which  that  implies  and 
produces.  The  faith,  and  love,  and  happy  obedience, 
and  consecration  which  is  calm,  that  partially  occupied 
and  ruled  the  soul  here,  are  to  be  thought  of  as  enlarged, 
perfected,  delivered  from  the  interruption  of  opposing 
thoughts,  of  sensuous  desires,  of  selfish  purposes,  of 
earthly  and  sinful  occupations.  And  that  perfect 
knowledge  and  perfect  union  and  perfect  likeness  are 
perfect  bliss.  And  that  bliss  is  heaven.  And  if,  whilst 
heaven  is  a  place,  the  heaven  of  heaven  be  a  state, 
then  no  more  words  are  needed  to  show  that,  then, 
heaven  can  be  no  dead  level,  nor  can  all  stand  at  the 
same  stage  of  attainments,  though  all  be  perfect ;  but 
that  in  that  solemn  company  of  the  blessed, '  the  spirits 
of  just  men  made  perfect,'  there  are  indefinitely 
numerous  degrees  of  approximation  to  the  unattain- 
able Perfection,  which  stretches  above  them  all,  and 
draws  them  all  to  itself.  We  have  not  to  think  of  that 
future  life  as  oppressed,  if  I  may  so  say,  with  the 
unbroken  monotony  of  perfect  identity  in  character 
and  attainments.  All  indeed  are  like  one  another, 
because  all  are  like  Jesus,  but  that  basis  of  similarity 
does  not  exclude  infinite  variety.  The  same  glory 
belongs  to  each,  but  it  is  reflected  at  differing  angles 
and  received  in  divers  measures.  Perfect  blessedness 
will  belong  to  each,  but  the  capacity  to  receive  it  will 
differ.  There  will  be  the  same  crown  on  each  head,  the 
same  song  on  each  lip,  the  same  fulness  of  joy  filling 
each  heart ;  but  star  differeth  from  star,  and  the  great 
condition  of  happy  intercourse  on  earth  will  not  be 
wanting  in  heaven — a  deep-seated  similarity  and  a 
superficial  diversity. 

Does  not  the  very  idea  of  an  endless  progress  in  that 
kingdom  involve  such  variety?     We  do  not  think  of 


62         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.  xx. 

men  passing  into  the  heavens,  and  being  perfected  by 
a  bound  so  as  that  there  shall  be  no  growth.  We  think 
of  them  indeed  as  being  perfected  up  to  the  height 
of  their  then  capacity,  from  the  beginning  of  that 
celestial  life,  so  as  that  there  shall  be  no  sin,  nor  any 
conscious  incompleteness,  but  not  so  as  that  there 
shall  be  no  progress.  And,  if  they  each  grow  through 
all  the  ages,  and  are  ever  coming  nearer  and  nearer  to 
Christ,  that  seems  necessarily  to  lead  to  the  thought 
that  this  endless  progress,  carried  on  in  every  spirit, 
will  place  them  at  different  points  of  approximation  to 
the  one  centre.  As  in  the  heavens  there  are  planets 
that  roll  nearer  the  central  sun,  and  others  that 
circle  farther  out  from  its  rays,  yet  each  keeps  its 
course,  and  makes  music  as  it  moves,  as  well  as  planets 
whose  broader  disc  can  receive  and  reflect  more  of  the 
light  than  smaller  sister  spheres,  and  yet  each  blazes 
over  its  whole  surface  and  is  full  to  its  very  rim 
with  white  light ;  so  round  that  throne  the  spirits  of 
the  just  made  perfect  shall  move  in  order  and  peace 
— every  one  blessed,  every  one  perfect,  every  one  like 
Christ  at  first,  and  becoming  liker  through  every 
moment  of  the  eternities.  Each  perfected  soul  looking 
on  his  brother  shall  see  there  another  phase  of  the 
one  perfectness  that  blesses  and  adorns  him  too,  and 
all  taken  together  shall  make  up,  in  so  far  as  finite 
creatures  can  make  up,  the  reflection  and  manifesta- 
tion of  the  fulness  of  Christ.  '  Having  then  gifts  differ- 
ing according  to  the  grace  that  is  given  to  us '  is  the 
law  for  the  incompleteness  of  earth.  '  Having  then 
gifts  differing  according  to  the  glory  that  is  given  to 
us '  will  be  the  law  for  the  perfection  of  the  heavens. 
There  are  those  for  whom  it  is  prepared  of  His  Father, 
that  they  shall  sit  in  special  nearness  to  Him. 


V.  23]  NEAREST  TO  CHRIST  63 

II.  Still  further,  these  words  rightly  understood 
assert  that  truth  which,  at  first  sight,  our  Authorised 
Version's  rendering  seems  to  make  them  contradict,  viz. 
that  Christ  is  the  giver  to  each  of  these  various  de- 
grees of  glory  and  blessedness.  'It  is  not  Mine  to 
give,  save  to  them  for  whom  it  is  prepared.'  Then  it 
is  Thine  to  give  it  to  them.  To  deny  or  to  doubt  that 
Christ  is  the  giver  of  the  blessedness,  whatsoever  the 
blessedness  may  be,  that  fills  the  hearts  and  souls  of 
the  redeemed,  is  to  destroy  His  whole  work,  to  destroy 
all  the  relations  upon  which  our  hopes  rest,  and  to 
introduce  confusion  and  contradiction  into  the  whole 
miatter. 

For  Scripture  teaches  us  that  He  is  God's  unspeak- 
able gift;  that  in  Him  is  given  to  us  everything  ;  that 
He  is  the  bestower  of  all  which  we  need ;  that  '  out  of 
His  fulness,'  as  one  of  those  two  disciples  long  after- 
wards said,  •  all  we  have  received,  and  grace  for  grace.' 
There  is  nothing  within  the  compass  of  God's  love  to 
bestow  of  which  Christ  is  not  the  giver.  There  is 
nothing  divine  that  is  done  in  the  heavens  and  the 
earth,  as  I  believe,  of  which  Christ  is  not  the  doer.  The 
representation  of  Scripture  is  uniformly  that  He  is  the 
medium  of  the  activity  of  the  divine  nature ;  that  he 
is  the  energy  of  the  divine  will;  that  He  is,  to  use  the 
metaphor  of  the  Old  Testament,  '  the  arm  of  the  Lord ' 
— the  f  orthputting  of  God's  power ;  that  He  is,  to  use 
the  profound  expression  of  the  New  Testament,  the 
Word  of  the  Lord,  cognate  with,  and  the  utterance  of, 
the  eternal  nature,  the  light  that  streams  from  the 
central  brightness,  the  river  that  flows  from  the  else 
sealed  fountain.  As  the  arm  is  to  the  body,  and  as  is 
the  word  to  the  soul,  so  is  Christ  to  God — the  eternal 
divine    utterance    and    manifestation    of    the    divine 


64         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xx. 

nature.  And,  therefore,  to  speak  of  anything  that  a 
man  can  need  and  anything  that  God  can  give  as  not 
being  given  by  Christ,  is  to  strike  at  the  very  founda- 
tion, not  only  of  our  hopes,  but  at  the  whole  scheme 
of  revealed  truth.  He  is  the  giver  of  heaven  and  every- 
thing else  which  the  soul  requires. 

And  then,  again,  let  me  remind  you  that  on  this 
matter  we  are  not  left  to  such  general  considerations 
as  those  that  I  have  been  suggesting,  but  that  the 
plain  statements  of  Scripture  do  confirm  the  assertion 
that  Christ  is  the  determiner  and  the  bestower  of  all 
the  differing  grades  of  glory  and  blessedness  yonder. 
For  do  we  not  read  of  Him  that  He  is  the  Judge  of  the 
whole  earth  ?  Do  we  not  read  of  Him  that  His  word 
is  acquittal  and  His  frown  condemnation — that  to  '  be 
accepted  of  Him '  is  the  highest  aim  and  end  of  the 
Christian  life  ?    Do  we  not  read  that  it  is  He  who  says, 

*  Come,  ye  blessed  of  My  Father,  enter  into  the  king- 
dom prepared  for  you '  ?  Do  we  not  read  that  the 
apostle,  dying,  solaced  himself  with  the  thought  that 

•  there  was  laid  up  for  him  a  crown  of  glory,  which  the 
Lord,  the  righteous  Judge,  would  give  him  at  that 
day'?  And  do  we  not  read  in  the  very  last  book  of 
Scripture,  written  by  one  of  those  two  brothers,  and 
containing  almost  verbal  reference  to  the  words  of  my 
text,  the  promise  seven  times  spoken  from  the  immortal 
lips  of  the  glorified  Son  of  Man,  walking  in  the  midst  of 
the  candlesticks, '  To  him  that  overcometh  will  I  give '  ? 
The  fruit  of  the  tree  of  life  is  plucked  by  His  hands  for 
the  wearied  conquerors.  The  crown  of  life  is  set  by  Him 
on  the  faithful  witnesses'  brows.  The  hidden  manna  and 
the  new  name  are  bestowed  by  Him  on  those  who  hold 
fast  His  name.  It  is  He  who  gives  the  victors  kingly 
power  over  the  nations.    He  clothes  in  white  garments 


V.23]  NEAREST  TO  CHRIST  65 

those  who  have  not  defiled  their  robes.  His  hand  writes 
upon  the  triumphant  foreheads  the  name  of  God.  And 
highest  of  all,  beyond  which  there  is  no  bliss  conceiv- 
able, '  To  him  that  overcometh  will  I  grant  to  sit  with 
Me  in  My  throne.' 

Christ  is  the  bestower  of  the  royalties  of  the  heavens 
as  of  the  redemptions  of  earth,  and  it  is  His  to  give 
that  which  we  crave  at  His  hands,  when  we  ask  pardon 
here  and  glory  hereafter.  '  To  him  that  is  athirst  will 
He  give  of  the  water  of  life  freely,'  and  to  him  that 
overcometh  will  He  give  the  crown  of  glory. 

III.  These  words  lead  us,  in  the  third  place,  to  the 
further  thought,  that  these  glorious  places  are  not 
given  to  mere  wishing,  nor  by  mere  arbitrary  will. 

'  You  would  sit  on  My  right  hand  and  on  My  left  ? 
You  think  of  that  pre-eminence  as  conferred  because 
you  chose  to  ask  it — as  given  by  a  piece  of  favouritism. 
Not  so.  I  cannot  make  a  man  foremost  in  my  kingdom 
in  that  fashion.  There  are  conditions  which  must  pre- 
cede such  an  elevation.' 

And  there  are  people  who  think  thus  still,  as  if  the 
mere  desire,  without  anything  more,  were  enough — or 
as  if  the  felicities  of  the  heavenly  world  were  dependent 
solely  on  Christ's  arbitrary  will,  and  could  be  bestowed 
by  an  exercise  of  mere  power,  as  an  Eastern  prince 
may  make  this  man  his  vizier  and  that  other  one  his 
water-carrier.  The  same  principles  which  we  have 
already  applied  to  the  elucidation  of  the  idea  of 
varieties  and  stages  of  nearness  to  Christ  in  His 
heavenly  kingdom  have  a  bearing  on  this  matter.  If 
we  rightly  understand  that  the  essential  blessedness 
of  heaven  is  likeness  to  Christ,  we  shall  feel  that 
m.ere  wishing  carries  no  man  thither,  and  that  mere 
sovereign  will  and  power  do  not  avail  to  set  us  there. 

VOL.  Ill,  E 


66         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xx. 

There  are  conditions  indispensable,  from  the  very 
nature  of  the  case,  and  unless  they  are  realised  it  is  as 
impossible  for  us  to  receive,  as  for  Him  to  give,  a  place 
at  His  side.  If,  indeed,  the  future  blessedness  con- 
sisted in  mere  external  circumstances  and  happier  con- 
ditions of  life,  it  might  be  so  bestowed.  But  if  place 
and  surroundings,  and  a  more  exquisite  and  ethereal 
frame,  are  but  subordinate  sources  of  it,  and  its  real 
fountain  is  union  with  Jesus  and  assimilation  to  Him, 
then  something  else  than  idle  desires  must  wing  the 
soul  that  soars  thither,  and  His  transforming  grace, 
not  His  arbitrary  w^ill,  must  set  us  at  His  own  right 
hand  '  in  the  heavenly  places.' 

Of  all  the  profitless  occupations  with  which  men 
waste  their  lives,  none  are  more  utterly  useless  than 
wishing  without  acting.  Our  wishes  are  meant  to 
impel  us  to  the  appropriate  forms  of  energy  by  which 
they  can  be  realised.  When  a  pauper  becomes  a 
millionaire  by  sitting  and  vehemently  wishing  that  he 
were  rich,  when  ignorance  becomes  learning  by  stand- 
ing in  a  library  and  wishing  that  the  contents  of  all 
these  books  were  in  its  head,  there  will  be  some  hope 
that  the  gates  of  heaven  will  fly  open  to  your  desire. 
Bat  till  then,  *  many,  I  say  unto  you,  shall  seek  to 
enter  in  and  not  be  able.'  Many  shall  seek ;  you  must 
strive.  For  wishing  is  one  thing,  and  willing  is  another, 
and  doing  is  yet  another.  And  in  regard  to  entrance 
into  Christ's  kingdom,  our  '  doing '  is  trusting  in  Him 
who  has  done  all  for  us.  '  This  is  the  work  of  God,  that 
ye  should  believe  on  Him  whom  He  hath  sent.'  Does 
our  wish  lead  us  to  the  acceptance  of  the  condition? 
Then  it  will  be  fulfilled.  If  not,  it  will  remain  fruitless, 
will  die  into  apathy,  or  will  live  as  a  pang  and  a  curse. 

You  wish,  or  fancy  you  wish,  to  pass  into  heaven 


V.  23]  NEAREST  TO  CHRIST  67 

when  you  die,  I  suppose.  Some  of  its  characteristics 
attract  you.  You  believe  in  punishment  for  sin,  and 
you  would  willingly  escape  that.  You  believe  in  a 
place  of  rest  after  toil,  of  happiness  after  sorrow, 
where  nipping  frosts  of  disappointment,  and  wild  blasts 
of  calamity,  and  slow,  gnawing  decay  no  more  harm 
and  kill  your  joys — and  you  would  like  that.  But  do 
you  wish  to  be  pure  and  stainless,  to  have  your  hearts 
fixed  on  God  alone,  to  have  your  whole  being  filled 
with  Him,  and  emptied  of  self  and  sense  and  sin  ?  The 
peace  of  heaven  attracts  you — but  its  praise  repels, 
does  it  not  ?  Its  happiness  draws  your  wishes — does 
its  holiness  seem  inviting?  It  would  be  joyful  to  be 
far  away  from  punishment — would  it  be  as  joyful  to 
be  near  Christ  ?  Ah !  no  ;  the  wishes  lead  to  no 
resolve,  and  therefore  to  no  result,  for  this  among 
other  reasons,  because  they  are  only  kindled  by  a  part 
of  the  whole,  and  are  exchanged  for  positive  aversion 
when  the  real  heaven  of  heaven  is  presented  to  your 
thoughts.  Many  a  man  who,  by  the  set  of  his  whole 
life,  is  drifting  daily  nearer  and  nearer  to  that  region 
of  outer  darkness,  is  conscious  of  an  idle  wish  for  peace 
and  joy  beyond  the  grave.  In  common  matters  a  man 
may  be  devoured  by  vain  desires  all  his  lifetime,  because 
he  will  not  pass  beyond  wishing  to  acting  accordingly. 
'  The  desire  of  the  slothful  killeth  him ;  because  his 
hands  refused  to  labour,  he  coveteth  greedily  all  the 
day  long.'  And  with  like  but  infinitely  more  tragical 
issues  do  these  vain  wishes  for  a  place  in  that  calm 
world,  where  nothing  but  holiness  enters,  gnaw  at 
many  a  soul.  *  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous, 
and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his,'  was  the  aspiration  of 
that  Gentile  prophet,  whose  love  of  the  world  obscured 
even  the  prophetic  illumination  which  he  possessed — 


68         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xx. 

and  his  epitaph  is  a  stern  comment  on  the  uselessness 
of  such  empty  wishes,  '  Balaam,  the  son  of  Beor,  they 
slew  with  the  sword.'  It  needs  more  than  a  wish  to  set 
us  at  Christ's  right  hand  in  His  kingdom. 

Nor  can  such  a  place  be  given  by  mere  arbitrary  will. 
Christ  could  not,  if  He  would,  set  a  man  at  His  right 
hand  whose  heart  was  not  the  home  of  simple  trust 
and  thankful  love,  whose  nature  and  desires  were 
unprepared  for  that  blessed  world.  It  would  be  like 
taking  one  of  those  creatures — if  there  be  such — that 
live  on  the  planet  whose  orbit  is  farthest  from  the  sun, 
accustomed  to  cold,  organised  for  darkness,  and  carrying 
it  to  that  great  central  blaze,  with  all  its  fierce  flames 
and  tongues  of  fiery  gas  that  shoot  up  a  thousand 
miles  in  a  moment.  It  would  crumble  and  disappear 
before  its  blackness  could  be  seen  against  the  blaze. 

His  loving  will  embraces  us  all,  and  is  the  founda- 
tion of  all  our  hopes.  But  it  had  to  reach  its  purpose 
by  a  bitter  road  which  He  did  not  shrink  from  travel- 
ling. He  desires  to  save  us,  and  to  realise  the  desire 
He  had  to  die.  *It  became  Him  for  whom  are  all 
things,  in  bringing  many  sons  unto  glory,  to  make  the 
Captain  of  their  salvation  perfect  through  suifering.' 
What  He  had  to  do,  we  have  to  accept.  Unless  we 
accept  the  mercy  of  God  in  Christ,  no  wish  on  our 
parts,  nor  any  exercise  of  power  on  His,  will  carry  us  to 
the  heaven  which  He  has  died  to  open,  and  of  which 
He  is  at  once  the  giver  and  the  gift. 

IV.  These  glorious  places  are  given  as  the  result  of  a 
divine  preparation. 

•To  them  for  whom  it  is  prepared  of  My  Father.* 
We  have  seen  that  Christ  is  not  to  be  regarded  as 
abjuring  the  office,  with  which  His  disciples'  confidence 
led  them  to  invest  Him — that   of   allotting   to    Hia 


V.  23]  NEAREST  TO  CHRIST  69 

servants  their  place  in  His  kingdom.  He  neither 
refers  it  to  the  Father  without  Himself,  nor  claims  it 
for  Himself  without  the  Father.  The  living  unity  of 
will  and  work  which  subsists  between  the  Father  and 
the  Son  forbids  such  a  separation  and  distribution  of 
office.  And  that  unity  is  set  forth  on  both  its  sides  in 
His  own  deep  words,  '  The  Son  can  do  nothing  of  Him- 
self, but  what  He  seeth  the  Father  do :  for  whatsoever 
things  He  doeth,  these  also  doeth  the  Son  likewise.' 

So,  then,  while  the  gift  of  thrones  at  His  side  is  His 
act  and  the  Father's,  in  like  manner  the  preparation  of 
the  royal  seats  for  their  occupants,  and  of  the  kings 
for  their  thrones,  is  the  Father's  act  and  His. 

Our  text  does  not  tell  us  directly  what  that  prepara- 
tion is,  any  more  than  it  tells  us  directly  what  the  prin- 
ciples are  on  which  entrance  into  and  pre-eminence  in 
the  kingdom  are  granted.  But  we  know  enough  in 
regard  to  both,  for  our  practical  guidance,  for  the 
vigour  of  our  hope,  and  the  grasp  of  our  faith. 

There  is  a  twofold  divine  preparation  of  the  heavens 
for  men.  One  is  from  of  old.  The  kingdom  is  'pre- 
pared for  you  before  the  foundation  of  the  world.' 
That  preparation  is  in  the  eternal  counsel  of  the  divine 
love,  which  calleth  the  things  that  are  not  as  though 
they  were,  and  before  which  all  that  is  evolved  in  the 
generations  of  men  and  the  epochs  of  time,  lies  on  one 
plane,  equally  near  to  Him  from  whose  throne  diverge 
far  beneath  the  triple  streams  of  past,  present,  and 
future. 

And  beside  that  preparation,  the  counsel  of  pardon- 
ing mercy  and  redeeming  grace,  there  is  the  other 
preparation — the  realisation  of  that  eternal  purpose  in 
time  through  the  work  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  His 
consolation  to  His  disciples  in  the  parting  hour  was,  '  I 


70         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xx. 

go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you.'  How  much  was  in- 
cluded in  these  words  we  shall  never  know  till  we,  like 
Him,  see  of  the  travail  of  His  soul,  and  like  Him  are 
satisfied.  But  we  can  dimly  see  that  on  the  one  hand 
His  death,  and  on  the  other  hand  His  entrance  into 
that  holiest  of  all,  make  ready  for  us  the  many  man- 
sions of  the  Father's  house.  He  was  crucified  for  our 
oifences.  He  was  raised  again  for  our  justification.  He 
is  passed  through  the  heavens  to  stand  our  Forerunner 
in  the  presence  of  God — and  by  all  these  mighty  acts 
He  prepares  the  heavenly  places  for  us.  As  the  sun 
behind  a  cloud,  which  hides  it  from  us,  is  still  pouring 
out  its  rays  on  far-off  lands,  so  He,  veiled  in  dark,  sun- 
set clouds  of  Calvary,  sent  the  energy  of  His  passion 
and  cross  into  the  unseen  world  and  made  it  possible 
that  we  should  enter  there.  '  When  Thou  didst  over- 
come the  sharpness  of  death.  Thou  didst  open  the  gates 
of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  to  all  believers.'  As  one 
who  precedes  a  mighty  host  provides  and  prepares  rest 
for  their  weariness,  and  food  for  their  hunger,  in  some 
city  on  their  line  of  march,  and  having  made  all  things 
ready,  is  at  the  gates  to  welcome  their  travel-stained 
ranks  when  they  arrive,  and  guide  them  to  their  repose  ; 
so  He  has  gone  before,  our  Forerunner,  to  order  all 
things  for  us  there.  It  may  be  that  unless  Christ  were 
in  heaven,  our  brother  as  well  as  our  Lord,  it  were  no 
place  for  mortals.  It  may  be  that  we  need  to  have  His 
glorified  bodily  presence  in  order  that  it  should  be  pos- 
sible for  human  spirits  to  bear  the  light,  and  be  at 
home  with  God.  Be  that  as  it  may,  this  we  know,  that 
the  Father  prepares  a  place  for  us  by  the  eternal 
counsel  of  His  love,  and  by  the  all-sufficient  work  of 
Christ,  by  whom  we  have  access  to  the  Father. 
And  as  His  work  is  the  Father's  preparation  of  the 


V.23]  THE  SERVANT-LORD  71 

place  for  us  by  the  Son,  the  issue  of  His  work  is  the 
Father's  preparation  of  us  for  the  place,  through  the 
Son,  by  the  Spirit.  *  He  that  hath  wrought  us  for  the 
self-same  thing  is  God.' 

If  so,  then  what  follows  ?  This,  among  other  things, 
that  wishes  are  vain,  for  heaven  is  no  gift  of  arbitrary 
favouritism,  but  that  faith  in  Christ,  and  faith  alone, 
leads  us  to  His  right  hand — and  the  measure  of  our  faith 
and  growing  Christlikeness  here,  will  be  the  measure 
of  our  glory  hereafter,  and  of  our  nearness  to  Him. 
It  is  possible  to  be '  saved,  yet  so  as  by  fire.'  It  is  possible 
to  have  '  an  entrance  ministered  unto  us  abundantly 
into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ.'  If  we  would  be  near  Him  then,  we  must 
be  near  Him  now.  If  we  would  share  His  throne,  we 
must  bear  His  cross.  If  we  would  be  found  in  the  like- 
ness of  His  resurrection,  we  must  be  '  conformable 
unto  His  death.'  Then  such  desires  as  these  true- 
hearted,  and  yet  mistaken,  disciples  expressed  will  not 
be  the  voice  of  selfish  ambition,  but  of  dependent  love. 
They  will  not  be  vain  wishes,  but  be  fulfilled  by  Him, 
who,  stooping  from  amid  the  royalties  of  heaven,  with 
love  upon  His  face  and  pity  in  His  heart,  will  give 
more  than  we  ask.  '  Seekest  thou  a  place  at  My  right 
hand  ?  Nay,  I  give  thee  a  more  wondrous  dignity.  To 
him  that  overcometh  will  I  grant  to  sit  with  Me  in  My 
throne.* 


THE  SERYANT-LORD  AND  HIS  SERVANTS 

•  Even  as  the  Son  of  Man  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister.' 

Matt.  xx.  28. 

It  seems  at  first  sight  strangely  unsympathetic  and 
irrelevant  that  the  ambitious  request  of  James  and 


72         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.  xx. 

John  and  their  foolish  mother,  that  they  should  sit  at 
Christ's  right  hand  and  His  left  in  His  kingdom,  should 
have  been  occasioned  by,  and  have  followed  imme- 
diately upon,  our  Lord's  solemn  and  pathetic  an- 
nouncement of  His  sufferings.  But  the  connection  is 
not  difficult  to  trace.  The  disciples  believed  that,  in 
some  inexplicable  way,  the  sufferings  which  our  Lord 
was  shadowing  forth  were  to  be  the  immediate  pre- 
cursors of  His  assuming  His  regal  dignity.  And  so 
they  took  time  by  the  forelock,  as  they  thought,  and 
made  haste  to  ensure  their  places  in  the  kingdom, 
which  they  believed  was  now  ready  to  burst  upon 
them.  Other  occasions  in  the  Gospels  in  which  we 
find  similar  quarrelling  among  the  disciples  as  to  pre- 
eminence are  similarly  associated  with  references 
made  by  our  Lord  to  His  approaching  crucifixion. 
On  a  former  occasion  He  cured  these  misplaced  ambi- 
tions by  setting  a  child  in  the  midst  of  them.  On  this 
He  cures  them  by  a  still  more  pathetic  and  wonderful 
example,  His  own ;  and  He  says,  '  I,  in  My  lowliness 
and  service,  am  to  be  your  Pattern.  In  Me  see  the 
basis  of  all  true  greatness,  and  the  right  use  of  all 
influence  and  authority.  The  Son  of  Man  came  not  to 
be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister.' 

I.  So,  then,  let  us  look  first  at  the  perfect  life  of 
service  of  the  Servant-Lord. 

Now,  in  order  to  appreciate  the  significance  of  that 
life  of  service,  we  must  take  into  account  the  intro- 
ductory words,  'The  Son  of  Man  came.'  They  declare 
His  pre-existence,  His  voluntary  entrance  into  the  con- 
ditions of  humanity,  and  His  denuding  Himself  of  'the 
glory  which  He  had  with  the  Father  before  the  world 
was.'  We  shall  never  understand  the  Servant-Christ 
until  we  understand  that  He  is  the  Eternal  Son  of  the 


V.  28]  THE  SERVANT-LORD  78 

Father.  His  service  began  long  before  any  of  His  acts 
of  sympathetic  and  self-forgetting  lowliness  rendered 
help  to  the  miserable  here  upon  earth.  His  service 
began  when  He  laid  aside,  not  the  garments  of  earth, 
but  the  vesture  of  the  heavens,  and  girded  Himself, 
not  with  the  cincture  woven  in  man's  looms,  but  with 
the  flesh  of  our  humanity,  '  and  being  found  in  fashion 
as  a  man,'  bowed  Himself  to  enter  into  the  conditions 
of  earth.  This  was  the  first,  the  chief  est  of  all  His  acts 
of  service,  and  the  sanctity  and  awfulness  of  it  run 
through  the  list  of  all  His  deeds  and  make  them  un- 
speakably great.  It  was  much  that  His  hands  should 
heal,  that  His  lips  should  comfort,  that  His  heart 
should  bleed  with  sympathy  for  sorrow.  But,  oh !  it 
was  more  that  He  had  hands  to  touch,  lips  to  speak  to 
human  hearts,  and  the  heart  of  a  man  and  a  brother 
to  feel  with  as  well  as  for  us.  '  The  Son  of  Man  came' — 
there  is  the  transcendent  example  of  the  true  use  of 
greatness ;  there  is  the  conspicuous  instance  of  the 
true  basis  of  authority  and  rule.  For  it  was  because 
He  was  '  found  in  fashion  as  a  Man '  that  He  has  won  a 
'  name  that  is  above  every  name,'  and  that  there  have 
accrued  to  Him  the  '  many  crowns '  which  He  wears  at 
the  Father's  side. 

But  then,  passing  beyond  this,  we  may  dwell,  though 
all  imperfectly,  upon  the  features,  familiar  as  they  are, 
of  that  wonderful  life  of  self-oblivious  and  self-sacri- 
ficing ministration  to  others.  Think  of  the  purity  of 
the  source  from  all  which  these  wonders  and  blessed- 
nesses of  service  for  man  flowed.  The  life  of  Jesus 
Christ  is  self -forget  ting  love  made  visible.  Scientists 
tell  us  that,  by  the  arrangement  of  particles  of  sand 
upon  plates  of  glass,  there  can  be  made,  as  it  were,  per- 
ceptible to  the  eye,  the  sweetness  of  musical  sounds ; 


74         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xx. 

and  each  note  when  struck  will  fling  the  particles  into 
varying  forms  of  beauty.  The  life  of  Jesus  Christ 
presents  in  shapes  of  loveliness  and  symmetry  the 
else  invisible  music  of  a  divine  love.  He  lets  us  see 
the  rhythm  of  the  Father's  heart.  The  source  from 
which  His  ministrations  have  flowed  is  the  pure  source 
of  a  perfect  love.  Ancient  legends  consolidated  the 
sunbeams  into  the  bright  figure  of  the  far-darting  god 
of  light.  And  so  the  sunbeams  of  the  divine  love  have, 
as  it  were,  drawn  themselves  together  and  shaped 
themselves  into  the  human  form  of  the  Son  of  Man 
who  *  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister.' 

No  taint  of  bye-ends  was  in  that  service;  no  side- 
long glances  at  possible  advantages  of  influence  or 
reputation  or  the  like,  which  so  often  deform  men's 
philanthropies  and  services  to  one  another.  No  more 
than  the  sunbeam  shines  for  the  sake  of  collateral 
issues  which  may  benefit  itself,  did  Jesus  Christ  seek 
His  own  advantage  in  ministering  to  men.  There  was 
no  speck  of  black  in  that  lustrous  white  robe,  but  all 
was  perfectly  unselfish  love.  Like  the  clear  sea,  weed- 
less  and  stainless,  that  laves  the  marble  steps  of  the 
palaces  of  Venice,  the  deep  ocean  of  Christ's  service  to 
man  was  pure  to  the  depths  throughout. 

That  perfect  ministry  of  the  Servant-Lord  was  ren- 
dered with  strange  spontaneity  and  cheerfulness.  One 
of  the  evangelists  says,  in  a  very  striking  and  beautiful 
phrase,  that  '  He  healed  them  that  had  need  of  heal- 
ing,' as  if  the  presence  of  the  necessity  evoked  the 
supply,  by  the  instinctive  action  of  a  perfect  love. 
There  was  never  in  Him  one  trace  of  reluctance  to 
have  leisure  broken  in  upon,  repose  disturbed,  or  even 
communion  with  God  abbreviated.  All  men  could  come 
always;  they  never  came  inopportunely.     We  often 


V.  28]  THE  SERVANT-LORD  75 

cheerfully  take  up  a  burden  of  service,  but  find  it  very 
hard  to  continue  bearing  it.  But  He  was  willing  to 
come  down  from  the  mountain  of  Transfiguration 
because  there  was  a  demoniac  boy  in  the  plain ;  and 
therefore  He  put  aside  the  temptation — '  Let  us  build 
here  three  tabernacles.'  He  was  willing  to  abandon 
His  desert  seclusion  because  the  multitude  sought 
Him.  Interrupted  in  His  communion  with  the  Father 
by  His  disciples,  He  had  no  impatient  word  to  say,  but 
'Let  us  go  into  other  cities  also,  for  therefore  am  I 
sent.'  When  He  stepped  from  the  fishing-boat  on  the 
other  side  of  the  lake  to  which  He  had  fled  for  a 
moment  of  repose.  He  was  glad  when  He  saw  the 
multitude  who  had  pertinaciously  outrun  Him,  and 
were  waiting  for  Him  on  the  beach.  On  His  Cross 
He  had  leisure  to  turn  from  His  own  physical  suffer- 
ings and  the  weight  of  a  world's  sin,  which  lay  upon 
Him,  to  look  at  that  penitent  by  His  side,  and  He 
ended  His  life  in  the  ministry  of  mercy  to  a  brigand. 
And  thus  cheerfully,  and  always  without  a  thought 
of  self, '  He  came  to  minister.' 

Think,  too,  of  the  sweep  of  His  ministrations.  They 
took  in  all  men ;  they  were  equally  open  to  enemies 
and  to  friends,  to  mockers  and  to  sympathisers. 
Think  of  the  variety  of  the  gifts  which  He  brought 
in  His  ministry — caring  for  body  and  for  soul;  al- 
leviating sorrow,  binding  up  wounds,  purifying  hearts ; 
dealing  with  sin,  the  fountain,  and  with  miseries,  its 
waters,  with  equal  helpfulness  and  equal  love. 

And  think  of  how  that  ministering  was  always 
ministration  by  'the  Lord.'  For  there  is  nothing  to 
me  more  remarkable  in  the  Gospel  narrative  than  the 
way  in  which,  side  by  side,  there  lie  in  Christ's  life 
the  two  elements,  so  difiicult  to  harmonise  in  fact,  and 


76         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xx. 

so  impossible  to  have  been  harmonised  in  a  legend, 
the  consciousness  of  authority  and  the  humility  of  a 
servant.  The  paradox  with  which  John  introduces 
his  sweet  pathetic  story  of  our  Lord's  washing  the 
disciples'  feet  is  true  of,  and  is  illustrated  by,  every 
instance  of  more  than  ordinary  lowliness  and  self- 
oblivion  which  the  Gospel  contains.  *  Jesus,  knowing 
that  He  had  come  from  God,  and  went  to  God,  and 
that  the  Father  had  given  all  things  into  His  hand' 
— did  what?      'Laid  aside  His   garments  and  took  a 

towel  and  girded  Himself.'    The  two  things  ever  go 

i  ...  . 

together.    And  thus,  in  His  lowliest  abasement,  as  in 

a  star  entangled  in  a  cloud,  there  shine  out,  all  the 

more    broad  and   conspicuous    for    the    environment 

which    wraps    them,    the    beams    of    His    uncreated 

lustre. 

That  ministration  was  a  service  that  never  shrank 
from  stern  rebuke.  His  service  was  no  mere  soft  and 
pliant,  sympathetic  helpfulness,  but  it  could  smite  and 
stab,  and  be  severe,  and  knit  its  brow,  and  speak  stern 
words,  as  all  true  service  must.  For  it  is  not  service 
but  cruelty  to  sympathise  with  the  sinner,  and  say 
nothing  in  condemnation  of  his  sin.  And  yet  no 
sternness  is  blessed  which  is  not  plainly  prompted  by 
desire  to  help. 

Now,  I  know  far  better  than  you  do  how  wretchedly 
inadequate  all  these  poor  words  of  mine  have  been  to 
the  great  theme  that  I  have  been  trying  to  speak  of, 
but  they  may  at  least — like  a  little  water  poured  into 
a  pump — have  set  your  minds  working  upon  the 
theme,  and,  I  hope,  to  better  purpose.  *  The  Son  of 
Man  came  ...  to  minister.' 

II.  Now,  secondly,  note  the  service  that  should  be 
modelled  on  His. 


V.  28]  THE  SERVANT-LORD  77 

Oh !  brethren,  if  we,  however  imperfectly,  have  taken 
into  mind  and  heart  that  picture  of  Him  who  was  and 
is  amongst  us  as  '  One  that  serveth,'  how  sharp  a  test, 
and  how  stringent,  and,  as  it  seems  to  us  sometimes, 
impossible,  a  commandment  are  involved  in  the  '  even 
as '  of  my  text.  When  we  think  of  our  grudging  ' 
services ;  when  we  think  of  how  much  more  apt  we 
are  to  insist  upon  what  men  owe  to  us  than  of  what 
we  owe  to  them  ;  how  ready  we  are  to  demand,  how 
slow  we  are  to  give  ;  how  we  flame  up  in  what  we 
think  is  warranted  indignation  if  we  do  not  get  the 
observance,  or  the  sympathy,  or  the  attention  that  we 
require,  and  yet  how  little  we  give  of  these,  we  may 
well  say,  *  Thou  hast  set  a  pattern  that  can  only  drive  { 
us  to  despair.'  If  we  would  read  our  Gospels  more 
than  we  do  with  the  feeling,  as  we  trace  that  Master 
through  each  of  His  phases  of  sympathy  and  self- 
oblivion  and  self-sacrifice  and  service,  '  that  is  what  I 
should  be,'  what  a  different  book  the  New  Testament 
would  be  to  us,  and  what  different  people  you  and  I 
would  be ! 

There  is  no  ground  on  which  we  can  rest  greatness 
or  superiority  in  Christ's  kingdom  except  this  ground 
of  service.  And  there  is  no  use  that  we  can  make 
either  of  money  or  of  talents,  of  acquirements  or 
opportunities,  except  the  use  of  helping  our  fellows 
with  them,  which  will  stand  the  test  of  this  model 
and  example.  '  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to 
receive.'  The  servant  who  serves  for  love  is  highest 
in  the  hierarchy  of  Heaven.  God,  who  is  supreme, 
has  stooped  lower  than  any  that  are  beneath  Him, 
and  His  true  rule  follows,  not  because  He  is  infinite, 
omnipotent,  omniscient,  omnipresent,  or  any  of  those 
other  pompous  Latin  words  which  describe  what  men 


78         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xx. 

call  His  attributes,  but  because  He  loves  best,  and 
does  most  for  the  most.  And  that  is  what  you  and  I 
ought  to  be.  We  may  well  take  the  lesson  to  our- 
selves. I  have  no  space,  and,  I  hope,  no  need  to  en- 
large upon  it ;  but  be  sure  of  this,  that  if  we  are  ever 
to  be  near  the  right  and  the  left  of  the  Master  in  His 
kingdom,  there  is  one  way,  and  only  one  way,  to  come 
thither,  and  that  is  to  make  self  abdicate  its  authority 
as  the  centre  of  our  lives,  and  to  enthrone  there  Christ, 
and  for  His  sake  all  our  brethren.  Be  ambitious  to  be 
first,  but  remember.  Noblesse  oblige.  He  that  is  first 
must  become  last.  He  that  is  Servant  of  all  is  Master 
of  all.  That  is  the  only  mastery  that  is  worth  any- 
thing, the  devotion  of  hearts  that  circle  round  the 
source  from  which  they  draw  light  and  warmth. 
What  is  it  that  makes  a  mother  the  queen  of  her 
children?  Simply  that  all  her  life  she  has  been  their 
servant,  and  never  thought  about  herself,  but  always 
about  them. 

Now  much  might  be  said  as  to  the  application  of 
these  threadbare  principles  in  the  Church  and  in 
society,  but  I  do  not  enlarge  on  that ;  only  let  me  say 
in  a  word — that  here  is  the  one  law  on  which  pre- 
eminence in  the  Church  is  to  be  allocated. 

What  becomes  of  sacerdotal  hierarchies,  what  be- 
comes of  the  '  lords  over  God's  heritage,'  if  the  one 
ground  of  pre-eminence  is  service  ?  I  know,  of  course, 
that  there  may  be  different  forms  embodying  one 
principle,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  that  form  of  Church 
polity  is  nearest  the  mind  of  Christ  in  which  the  only 
dignity  is  dignity  of  service,  and  the  only  use  of  place 
is  the  privilege  of  stooping  and  helping. 

This  fruitful  principle  will  one  day  shape  civil  as 
well  as  ecclesiastical  societies.     For  the  present,  our 


V.  28]  THE  SERVANT-LORD  79 

Lord  draws  a  contrast  between  the  worldly  and  the 
Christian  notions  of  rank  and  dignity.  '  It  shall  not 
be  so  among  you,'  says  He.  And  the  nobler  concep- 
tion of  eminence  and  service  set  forth  in  His  disciples, 
if  they  are  true  to  their  Lord  and  their  duty,  will 
leaven,  and  we  may  hope  finally  transform  society, 
sweeping  away  all  vulgar  notions  of  greatness  as 
depending  on  birth,  or  wealth,  or  ruder  forms  of 
powers,  and  marshalling  men  according  to  Christ's 
order  of  precedence,  in  which  helpfulness  is  pre- 
eminence and  service  is  supremacy,  while  conversely 
pre-eminence  is  used  to  help  and  superiority  stoops 
to  serve. 

One  remark  will  close  my  sermon.  You  have  to 
take  the  last  words  of  this  verse  if  you  are  ever 
going  to  put  in  practice  its  first  words.  '  Even  as  the 
Son  of  Man  came,  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to 
minister,' — if  Jesus  Christ  had  stopped  there  He 
would  only  have  been  one  more  of  the  long  roll  of 
ineffectual  preachers  and  prophets  who  show  men  the 
better  way,  and  leave  them  struggling  in  the  mire. 
But  He  did  not  stop  there :  '  Even  as  the  Son  of 
Man  came  ...  to  give  His  life  a  ransom  for  many.' 

Ah!  the  Cross,  with  its  burden  of  the  sacrifice  for 
the  world's  sin,  is  the  only  power  which  will  supply 
us  with  a  sufficient  motive  for  the  loftiness  of  Christ- 
like service.  I  know  that  there  is  plenty  of  entirely 
irreligious  and  Christless  beneficence  in  the  world. 
And  God  forbid  that  I  should  say  a  word  to  seem  to 
depreciate  that.  But  sure  I  am  that  for  the  noblest, 
purest,  most  widely  diffused  and  blessedly  operative 
kinds  of  service  of  man,  there  is  no  motive  and  spring 
anywhere  except  *  He  loved  me,  and  gave  Himself  for 
me.'     And,  bought  by  that  service  and  that  blood,  it 


80  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xx. 

will  be  possible,  and  it  is  obligatory  upon  all  of  us,  to 
'  do  unto  others,'  as  He  Himself  said,  '  as  I  have  done  to 
you.'    '  The  servant  is  not  greater  than  his  Lord.' 


WHAT  THE  HISTORIC  CHRIST  TAUGHT 
ABOUT  HIS  DEATH 

'The  Son  of  Man  came  ...  to  give  His  life  a  ransom  for  many.'— Matt.  xx.  28. 

We  hear  a  great  deal  at  present  about  going  back  to 
'the  Christ  of  the  Gospels.'  In  so  far  as  that  phrase 
and  the  movement  of  thought  which  it  describes  are 
a  protest  against  the  substitution  of  doctrines  for  the 
Person  whom  the  doctrines  represent,  I,  for  one,  re- 
joice in  it.  But  I  believe  that  the  antithesis  suggested 
by  the  phrase,  and  by  some  of  its  advocates  avowed, 
between  the  Christ  of  the  Gospels  and  the  Christ  of 
the  Epistles,  is  false.  The  Christ  of  the  Gospels  is 
tte  Christ  of  the  Epistles,  as  I  humbly  venture  to 
believe.  And  I  cannot  but  see  that  there  is  a  possibility 
of  a  movement  which,  carried  out  legitimately,  should 
command  the  fullest  sympathy  of  every  Christian 
heart,  degenerating  into  the  rejection  of  all  the  super- 
natural elements  in  the  nature  and  work  of  our  Lord, 
and  leaving  us  with  a  meagre  human  Christ,  shrunken 
and  impotent.  The  Christ  of  the  Gospels,  by  all 
means ;  but  let  it  be  the  whole  Christ  of  all  the  Gospels, 
the  Christ  over  whose  cradle  angels  sang,  by  whose 
empty  grave  angels  watched,  whose  ascending  form 
angels  beheld  and  proclaimed  that  He  should  come 
again  to  be  our  Judge.  Go  back  to  that  Christ,  and 
all  will  be  well. 

Now  it  seems  to  me  that  one  direction  in  which  there 
is  a  possibility  of  such  movement  as  I  have  referred 


V.28]  CHRIST'S  TEACHING  81 

to  being  one-sided  and  harmful  is  in  reference  to  the 
conception  which  we  form  of  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ. 
And  therefore  I  ask  you  to  listen  for  a  few  moments 
to  me  at  this  time  whilst  I  try  to  bring  out  what  is 
plain  in  the  words  before  us ;  and  is,  as  I  humbly 
believe,  interwoven  in  the  whole  texture  of  all  the 
Gospels — viz.,  the  conception  which  Jesus  Christ  Him- 
self formed  of  the  meaning  of  His  death. 

I.  The  first  thing  that  I  notice  is  that  the  Christ  of 
the  Gospels  thought  and  taught  that  His  death  was 
to  be  His  own  act. 

I  do  not  think  that  it  is  an  undue  or  pedantic 
pressing  of  the  significance  of  the  words  before  us,  if 
I  ask  you  to  notice  two  of  the  significant  expressions 
in  this  text.  '  The  Son  of  Man  came,'  and  came  '  to  give 
His  life.'  The  one  word  refers  to  the  act  of  entrance 
into,  the  other  to  the  act  of  departure  from,  this 
earthly  life.  They  correspond  in  so  far  as  that  both 
bring  into  prominence  Christ's  own  consent,  volition, 
and  action  in  the  very  two  things  about  which  men 
are  least  consulted,  their  being  born  and  their  dying. 

*The  Son  of  Man  came.'  Now  if  that  expression 
occurred  but  once  it  might  be  minimised  as  being 
only  a  synonym  for  birth,  having  no  special  force. 
But  if  you  will  notice  that  it  is  our  Lord's  habitual 
word  about  Himself,  only  varied  occasionally  by 
another  one  equally  significant  when  he  says  that  He 
'  was  sent ' ;  and  if  you  will  further  notice  that  all 
through  the  Gospels  He  never  but  once  speaks  of 
Himself  as  being  'born,'  I  think  you  will  admit  that 
I  am  not  making  too  much  of  a  word  when  I  say 
that  when  Christ,  out  of  the  depths  of  His  conscious- 
ness, said  •  the  Son  of  Man  came,'  He  was  teaching  us 
that  He  lived  before  He  was  born,  and  that  behind 

VOL.  III.  p 


82         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xx. 

the  natural  fact  of  birth  there  lay  the  supernatural 
fact  of  His  choosing  to  be  incarnated  for  man's  re- 
demption. The  one  instance  in  which  He  does  speak 
of  Himself  as  '  being  born '  is  most  instructive  in  this 
connection.  For  it  was  before  the  Roman  governor; 
and  He  accompanied  the  clause  in  which  He  said,  '  To 
this  end  was  I  born' — which  was  adapted  to  Pilate's 
level  of  intelligence — with  another  one  which  seemed 
to  be  inserted  to  satisfy  His  own  sense  of  fitness, 
rather  than  for  any  light  that  it  would  give  to  its 
first  hearer,  'And  for  this  cause  came  I  into  the  world.' 
The  two  things  were  not  synonymous ;  but  before  the 
birth  there  was  the  coming,  and  Jesus  was  born  because 
the  Eternal  Word  willed  to  come.  So  says  the  Christ 
of  the  Gospels  ;  and  the  Christ  of  the  Epistles  is  repre- 
sented as  'taking  upon  Him  the  form  of  a  servant, 
and  being  found  in  fashion  as  a  man.'  Do  you  accept 
that  as  true  of  'the  historic  Christ'? 

With  precise  correspondence,  if  we  turn  to  the  other 
end  of  His  life,  we  find  the  equally  significant  ex- 
pression in  my  text  which  asserts  for  it,  too,  that  the 
other  necessity  to  which  men  necessarily  and  without 
their  own  volition  bow  was  to  Christ  a  matter  of  choice. 
'  The  Son  of  Man  came  to  give.'  '  No  man  taketh  it  from 
Me,'  as  He  said  on  another  occasion.  '  I  lay  it  down 
of  Myself.'  '  The  Good  Shepherd  giveth  His  life  for  the 
sheep.'  'My  flesh  ...  I  give  for  the  world's  life.'  Now, 
brethren,  we  are  not  to  regard  these  words  as  mere 
vague  expressions  for  a  willing  surrender  to  the  neces- 
sity of  death,  but  as  expressing  what  I  believe  is  taught 
us  all  through  Scripture,  and  is  fundamental  to  any 
real  grasp  of  the  real  Christ,  that  He  died  because  He 
chose,  and  chose  because  He  loved.  What  meant  that 
'loud  voice'  with  which  He  said  'It  is  finished,'  but 


V.  28]  CHRIST'S  TEACHING  83 

that  there  was  no  phr  ical  exhaustion,  such  as  was 
usually  the  immediate  occasion  of  death  by  crucifixion  ? 
What  meant  that  surprising  rapidity  with  which  the 
last  moment  came  in  His  case,  to  the  astonishment  of 
the  stolid  bystanders  ?  They  meant  the  same  thing  as 
I  believe  that  the  Evangelists  meant  when  they,  with 
one  consent,  employed  expressions  to  describe  Christ's 
death,  which  may  indeed  be  only  euphemisms,  but 
are  apparently  declarations  of  its  voluntary  character. 
•  He  gave  up  the  ghost.'  '  He  yielded  His  Spirit.'  He 
breathed  forth  His  life,  and  so  He  died. 

As  one  of  the  old  fathers  said,  '  Who  is  this  that 
thus  falls  asleep  when  He  wills  ?  To  die  is  weakness, 
but  thus  to  die  is  power.'  'The  weakness  of  God  is 
stronger  than  man.'  The  desperate  king  of  Israel  bade 
his  slave  kill  him,  and  when  the  menial  shrunk  from 
such  sacrilege  he  fell  upon  his  own  sword.  Christ 
bade  His  servant  Death,  '  Do  this,'  and  he  did  it ;  and 
dying,  our  Lord  and  Master  declared  Himself  the  Lord 
and  Master  of  Death.  This  is  a  part  of  the  history 
of  the  historic  Christ.    Do  you  believe  it  ? 

IL  Then,  secondly,  the  Christ  of  the  Gospels  thought 
and  taught  that  His  death  was  one  chief  aim  of  His 
coming. 

I  have  omitted  words  from  my  text  which  intervene 
between  its  first  and  its  last  ones ;  not  because  I  regard 
them  as  unimportant,  but  because  they  would  lead 
us  into  too  wide  a  field  to  cover  in  one  sermon.  But 
I  would  pray  you  to  observe  how  the  re-insertion  of 
them  throws  immense  light  upon  the  significance  of  the 
words  which  I  have  chosen.  'The  Son  of  Man  came 
not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister.'  That 
covers  the  whole  ground  of  His  gracious  and  gentle 
dealings  here  on  earth,  His  tenderness,  self-abnega- 


84         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xx. 

tion,  sympathy,  healing,  and  helpfulness.  Then,  side 
by  side  with  that,  and  as  the  crowning  manifestation 
of  His  work  of  service,  without  which  His  life — 
gracious,  radiant,  sweet  as  it  is — would  still  want 
something  of  its  power.  He  sets  His  death. 

Surely  that  is  an  altogether  unexampled  pheno- 
menon ;  altogether  a  unique  and  unparalleled  thing, 
that  a  man  should  regard  that  which  for  all  workers, 
thinkers,  speakers,  poets,  philanthropists,  is  the  sad 
term  of  their  activity,  as  being  a  part  of  His  work; 
and  not  only  a  part,  but  so  conspicuous  a  part  that 
it  was  a  purpose  which  He  had  in  view  from  the  very 
beginning,  and  before  the  beginning,  of  His  earthly 
life.  So  Calvary  was  to  Jesus  Christ  no  interruption, 
tragic  and  premature,  of  His  life's  activities.  His 
death  was  no  mere  alternative  set  before  Him,  which 
He  chose  rather  than  be  unfaithful  or  dumb.  He  did 
not  die  because  He  was  hounded  by  hostile  priests, 
but  He  came  on  purpose  that  He  might  so  end  His 
career. 

I  need  not  remind  you  of,  and  space  would  not 
permit  me  to  dwell  upon,  other  instances  in  the 
Gospels  in  which  our  Lord  speaks  the  same  language. 
At  the  very  beginning  of  His  public  ministry  He  told 
the  inquiring  rabbi,  who  came  to  Him  with  the  notion 
that  He  would  be  somewhat  flattered  by  His  recog- 
nition by  one  of  the  authoritative  and  wise  pundits 
of  the  nation,  that  'the  Son  of  Man  must  be  lifted 
up.'  The  necessity  was  before  Him,  but  it  was  no 
unwelcome  necessity,  for  it  sprung  from  His  own  love. 
It  was  the  very  aim  of  His  coming,  to  live  a  Servant 
and  to  die  a  Ransom. 

Dear  brethren,  let  me  press  upon  you  this  plain 
truth,  that  no  conception  of  Christ's  death  which  looks 


V.28]  CHRIST'S  TEACHING  85 

upon  it  merely  as  the  close,  by  pathetic  sufferings, 
of  a  life  to  the  activities  of  which  it  adds  nothing 
but  pathos,  approaches  the  signification  of  it  which 
inheres  in  the  thought  that  this  was  the  aim  and 
purpose  with  which  Jesus  Christ  was  incarnate,  that 
He  should  live  indeed  the  pure  and  sweet  life  which 
He  lived,  but  equally  that  He  should  die  the  painful 
and  bitter  death  which  He  died.  He  was  not  merely 
a  martyr,  though  the  first  of  them,  but  something 
far  more,  as  we  shall  see  presently.  If  to  you  the 
death  of  Jesus  Christ  is  the  same  in  kind,  however 
superior  in  degree,  as  those  of  patriots  and  reformers 
and  witnesses  for  the  truth  and  martyrs  for  righteous- 
ness, then  I  humbly  venture  to  represent  that,  instead 
of  going  back  to,  you  have  gone  away  from,  the  Christ 
of  the  Gospels,  who  said,  '  The  Son  of  Man  came  .  .  . 
to  give  His  life';  and  that  such  a  Christ  is  not  a 
historic  but  an  imaginary  one. 

III.  So,  thirdly,  notice  that  the  Christ  of  the  Gospels 
thought  and  taught  that  His  death  was  a  ransom. 

A  ransom  is  a  price  paid  in  exchange  for  captives 
that  they  may  be  liberated ;  or  for  culprits  that  they 
may  be  set  free.  And  that  was  Christ's  thought  of 
what  He  had  to  die  for.     There  lay  the  '  must.' 

I  do  not  dwell  upon  the  conception  of  our  condition 
involved  in  that  word.  We  are  all  bound  and  held  by 
the  chain  of  our  sins.  We  all  stand  guilty  before  God, 
and,  as  I  believe,  there  is  a  necessity  in  that  loving 
divine  nature  whereby  it  is  impossible  that  without  a 
ransom  there  can  be,  in  the  interests  of  mankind  and 
in  the  interests  of  righteousness,  forgiveness  of  sins. 
I  do  not  mean  that  in  the  words  before  us  there  is  a 
developed  theory  of  atonement,  but  I  do  mean  that  no 
man,  dealing  with  them  fairly,  can  strike  out  of  them 


86         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xx. 

the  notion  of  vicarious  suffering  in  exchange  for,  or  in- 
stead of,  'the  many.'  This  is  no  occasion  for  theological 
discussion,  nor  am  I  careful  now  to  set  forth  a  fully- 
developed  doctrine ;  but  I  am  declaring,  as  God  helps 
me,  what  is  to  me,  and  I  pray  may  be  to  you,  the 
central  thought  about  that  Cross  of  Calvary,  that  on  it 
there  is  made  the  sacrifice  for  the  world's  sins. 

And,  dear  brethren,  I  beseech  you  to  consider,  how 
can  we  save  the  character  of  Jesus  Christ,  accepting 
these  Gospels,  which  on  the  hypothesis  about  which  I 
am  now  speaking  are  valid  sources  of  knowledge, 
without  recognising  that  He  deliberately  led  His  dis- 
ciples to  believe  that  He  died  for — that  is,  instead  of — 
them  that  put  their  trust  in  Him  ?  For  remember  that 
not  only  such  words  as  these  of  my  text  are  to  be 
taken  into  account.  Remember  that  it  was  the  Christ 
of  the  Gospels  who  established  that  last  rite  of  the 
Lord's  Supper,  in  which  the  broken  bread,  and  the 
separation  between  the  bread  and  the  wine,  both  indi- 
cated a  violent  death,  and  who  said  about  both  the  one 
and  the  other  of  the  double  symbols,  '  For  you.'  I  do 
not  understand  how  any  body  of  professing  believers, 
rejecting  Christ's  death  as  the  sacrifice  for  sin,  can  find 
a  place  in  their  beliefs  or  in  their  practice  for  that 
institution  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  or  can  rightly  inter- 
pret the  sacred  words  then  spoken.  This  is  why  the 
Cross  was  Christ's  aim.  This  is  why  He  said,  with  His 
dying  breath,  'It  is  finished.'  This  truth  is  the  ex- 
planation of  His  words,  '  The  Good  Shepherd  giveth 
His  life  for  the  sheep.' 

And  this  truth  of  a  ransom-price  lies  at  the  basis  of 
all  vigorous  Christianity.  A  Christianity  without  a 
dying  Christ  is  a  dying  Christianity.  And  history 
shows  us  that  the  expansiveness  and  elevating  power 


V.  28]  CHRIST'S  TEACHING  87 

of  the  Gospel  depend  on  the  prominence  given  to  the 
sacrifice  on  the  Cross.  An  old  fable  says  that  the  only 
thing  that  melts  adamant  is  the  blood  of  a  lamb.  The 
Gospel  reveals  the  precious  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  His 
death  for  us  as  a  ransom, as  the  one  power  which  subdues 
hostility  and  binds  hearts  to  Him.  The  Christ  of  the 
Gospels  is  the  Christ  who  taught  that  He  died  for  us. 

IV.  Lastly,  the  Christ  of  the  Gospels  thought  and 
taught  that  His  death  had  world-wide  power. 

He  says  here,  'A  ransom  for  Tnany.'  Now  that  word  is 
not  used  in  this  instance  in  contradistinction  to  '  all,'  nor 
in  contradistinction  to  'few.'  It  is  distinctly  employed 
as  emphasising  the  contrast  between  the  single  death 
and  the  wide  extent  of  its  benefits ;  and  in  terms  which, 
rigidly  taken,  simply  express  indefiniteness,  it  expresses 
universality.  That  that  is  so  seems  to  me  to  be  plain 
enough,  if  we  notice  other  places  of  Scripture  to  which, 
at  this  stage  of  my  sermon,  I  can  but  allude.  For 
instance,  in  Romans  v.  the  two  expressions, '  the  many ' 
and  the  '  all,'  alternate  in  reference  to  the  extent  of  the 
power  of  Christ's  sacrifice  for  men.  And  the  Apostle 
in  another  place,  where  probably  there  may  be  an 
allusion  to  the  words  of  the  text,  so  varies  them  as 
that  he  declares  that  Jesus  Christ  in  His  death  was 
the  ransom  '  instead  of  all.'  But  I  do  not  need  to  dwell 
upon  these.  '  Many '  is  a  vague  word,  and  in  it  we  see 
dim  crowds  stretching  away  beyond  our  vision,  for 
whom  that  death  was  to  be  the  means  of  salvation.  I 
take  it  that  the  words  of  our  text  have  an  allusion  to 
those  in  the  great  prophecy  in  the  fifty-third  chapter 
of  Isaiah,  in  which  we  read,  '  By  His  knowledge  shall 
My  righteous  Servant'  (mark  the  allusion  in  our  text, 
•Who  came  to  tninister')  'justify  many,  for  He  shall 
bear  their  iniquities.' 


88         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xx. 

So,  brethren,  I  believe  that  I  am  not  guilty  of  unduly 
widening  out  our  Lord's  thought  when  I  say  that  the 
indefinite  '  many '  is  practically  '  all.'  And,  brother,  if 
*  all,'  then  you ;  if  all,  then  me  ;  if  all,  then  each.  Think 
of  a  man,  nineteen  centuries  ago,  away  in  a  little 
insignificant  corner  of  the  world,  standing  up  and 
saying,  '  My  death  is  the  price  paid  in  exchange  for  the 
world  ! '  That  is  meekness  and  lowliness  of  heart,  is  it? 
That  is  humility,  so  beautiful  in  a  teacher,  is  it  ?  How 
any  man  can  accept  the  veracity  of  these  narratives, 
believe  that  Jesus  Christ  said  anything  the  least  like 
this,  not  believe  that  He  was  the  Divine  Son  of  the 
Father,  the  Sacrifice  for  the  world's  sin,  and  yet  profess 
— and  honestly  profess,  I  doubt  not,  in  many  cases — to 
retain  reverence  and  admiration,  all  but  adoration, 
for  Him,  I  confess  that  I,  for  my  poor  part,  cannot 
understand. 

But  I  ask  you,  what  you  are  going  to  do  with  these 
thoughts  and  teachings  of  the  Christ  of  the  Gospels. 
Are  you  going  to  take  them  for  true  ?  Are  you  going 
to  trust  your  salvation  to  Him?  Are  you  going  to 
accept  the  ransom  and  say,  '  O  Lord,  truly  I  am  Thy 
servant ;  Thou  hast  loosed  my  bonds '  ?  Brethren,  the 
Christ  of  the  Gospels,  by  all  means;  but  the  Christ 
that  said, '  The  Son  of  Man  came  to  .  .  .  give  His  life  a 
ransom  for  many.'  My  Christ,  and  your  Christ,  and 
the  world's  Christ  is  '  the  Christ  that  died ;  yea,  rather, 
that  is  risen  again ;  who  is  even  at  the  right  hand  of 
God,  who  also  maketh  intercession  for  us/ 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  KING  TO  HIS  PALACE 

'And  when  they  drew  nigh  nnto  Jerusalem,  and  were  come  to  Bethphage,  unto 
the  mount  of  Olives,  then  sent  Jesus  two  disciples,  2.  Saying  unto  them.  Go  into 
the  village  over  against  you,  and  straightway  ye  shall  find  an  ass  tied,  and  a  colt 
with  her :  loose  them,  and  bring  them  unto  Me.  3.  And  if  any  man  say  ought  unto 
you,  ye  shall  say,  The  Lord  hath  need  of  them ;  and  straightway  he  will  send  them. 
4.  All  this  was  done,  that  it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  by  the  prophet, 
saying,  5.  Tell  ye  the  daughter  of  Sion,  Behold,  thy  King  comelh  unto  thee, 
meek,  and  sitting  upon  an  ass,  and  a  colt  the  foal  of  an  ass.  6.  And  the  disciples 
went,  and  did  as  Jesus  commanded  them,  7.  And  brought  the  ass,  and  the  colt, 
and  put  on  them  their  clothes,  and  they  set  Him  thereon.  8.  And  a  very  great 
multitude  spread  their  garments  in  the  way  ;  others  cut  down  branches  from  the 
trees,  and  strawed  them  in  the  way.  9.  And  the  multitudes  that  went  before,  and 
that  followed,  cried,  saying,  Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David:  Blessed  is  He  that 
Cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord ;  Hosanna  in  the  highest.  10.  And  when  He  was 
come  into  Jerusalem,  all  the  city  was  moved,  saying.  Who  is  this?  11.  And  the 
multitude  said.  This  is  Jesus  the  prophet  of  Xazareth  of  Galilee.  12.  And  Jesus 
went  into  the  temple  of  God,  and  cast  out  all  them  that  sold  and  bought  in  the 
temple,  and  overthrew  the  tables  of  the  moneychangers,  and  the  seats  of  them 
that  sold  doves,  13.  And  said  unto  them.  It  is  written.  My  house  shall  be  called 
the  house  of  prayer ;  but  ye  have  made  it  a  den  of  thieves.  14.  And  the  bUnd  and 
the  lame  came  to  Him  in  the  temple ;  and  He  healed  them.  15.  And  when  the 
chief  priests  and  scribes  saw  the  wonderful  things  that  He  did.  and  the  children 
crying  in  the  temple,  and  saying.  Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David,  they  were  sore 
displeased,  16.  And  said  tmto  Him,  Hearest  Thou  what  these  say?  And  Jesus 
saith  unto  them,  Yea ;  have  ye  never  read,  Out  of  the  mouth  of  babes  and  suck- 
lings Thou  hast  perfected  praise  ?  '—Matt.  xxL  1-16. 

Jesus  spent  His  last  Sabbath  in  the  quiet  home  at 
Bethany  with  Lazarus  and  his  sisters.  Some  sense  of 
His  approaching  death  tinged  the  modest  festivities  of 
that  evening  with  sadness,  and  spoke  in  Mary's  'anoint- 
ing of  His  body  for  the  burying.'  The  pause  was  brief, 
and,  with  the  dawn  of  Sunday,  He  set  Himself  again 
to  tread  the  road  to  the  cross.  Who  can  doubt  that 
He  felt  the  relief  of  that  momentary  relaxation  of  the 
strain  on  His  spirit,  and  the  corresponding  pressure  of 
its  renewed  tightening  ?  This  passage  shows  Him  put- 
ting out  from  the  quiet  haven  and  facing  the  storm 
again.  It  is  in  two  main  sections,  dealing  respectively 
with  the  royal  procession,  and  the  acts  of  the  King  in 
the  temple. 

I.  The  procession  of  the  King.     The  first  noteworthy 
point  is  that  our  Lord  initiates  the  whole  incident,  aiid 


90        GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxi. 

deliberately  sets  Himself  to  evoke  the  popular  enthusi- 
asm, by  a  distinct  voluntary  fulfilment  of  a  Messianic 
prophecy.  The  allusion  to  the  prophecy,  in  His  send- 
ing for  the  colt  and  mounting  it,  may  have  escaped  the 
disciples  and  the  crowds  of  pilgrims ;  but  they  rightly 
caught  His  intention  to  make  a  solemn  triumphal  entry 
into  the  city,  and  responded  with  a  burst  of  enthusiasm, 
which  He  expected  and  wished.  The  poor  garments 
flung  hastily  on  the  animals,  the  travel-stained  cloaks 
cast  on  the  rocky  path,  the  branches  of  olive  and  palm 
waved  in  the  hands,  and  the  tumult  of  acclaim,  which 
shrilly  echoed  the  words  of  the  psalm,  and  proclaimed 
Him  to  be  the  Son  of  David,  are  all  tokens  that  the 
crowds  hailed  Him  as  their  King,  and  were  all  permitted 
and  welcomed  by  Him.  All  this  is  in  absolute  opposi- 
tion to  His  usual  action,  which  had  been  one  long  effort 
to  damp  down  inflammable  and  unspiritual  Messianic 
hopes,  and  to  avoid  the  very  enthusiasm  which  now 
surges  round  Him  unchecked.  Certainly  that  calm 
figure,  sitting  on  the  slow-pacing  ass,  with  the  noisy 
multitude  pressing  round  Him,  is  strangely  unlike 
Him,  who  hid  Himself  among  the  hills  when  they 
sought  to  make  Him  a  King.  His  action  is  the  more 
remarkable,  if  it  be  remembered  that  the  roads  were 
alive  with  pilgrims,  most  of  whom  passing  through 
Bethany  would  be  Galileans ;  that  they  had  seen 
Lazarus  walking  about  the  village,  and  knew  who 
had  raised  him ;  that  the  Passover  festival  was  the 
time  in  all  the  year  when  popular  tumults  were  to  be 
expected ;  and  that  the  crowds  going  to  Jerusalem 
were  met  by  a  crowd  coming  from  it,  bent  on  seeing 
the  doer  and  the  subject  of  the  great  miracle.  Into 
this  heap  of  combustibles  our  Lord  puts  a  light.  He 
must  have  meant  that  it  should  blaze  as  it  did. 


vs.  1-161     THE  COMING  OF  THE  KING       91 

What  is  the  reason  for  this  contrast  ?  The  need  for 
the  former  reticence  no  longer  existed.  There  was  no 
fear  now  of  His  teaching  and  ministry  being  inter- 
rupted by  popular  outburst.  He  knew  that  it  was 
finished,  and  that  His  hour  had  come.  Therefore,  the 
same  raotive  of  filial  obedience  which  had  led  Him  to 
avoid  what  would  prevent  His  discharging  His  Father's 
commission,  now  impelled  Him  to  draw  the  attention 
of  the  nation  and  its  rulers  to  the  full  extent  of  His 
claims,  and  to  put  the  plain  issue  of  their  acceptance  or 
rejection  in  the  most  unmistakable  manner.  A  certain 
divine  decorum,  if  we  may  so  call  it,  required  that  once 
He  should  enter  the  city  as  its  King.  Some  among  the 
shouting  crowds  might  have  their  enthusiasm  purified 
and  spiritualised,  if  once  it  were  directed  to  Him.  It 
was  for  us,  no  less  than  for  them,  that  this  one  inter- 
ruption of  His  ordinary  method  was  adopted  by  Him, 
that  we  too  might  ponder  the  fact  that  He  laid  His 
hand  on  that  magnificent  prophecy,  and  said,  '  It  is 
mine.    I  am  the  King.' 

The  royal  procession  is  also  a  revelation  of  the 
character  of  the  King  and  the  nature  of  His  kingdom. 
A  strange  King  this,  indeed,  who  has  not  even  an  ass 
of  His  own,  and  for  followers,  peasants  with  palm 
branches  instead  of  swords !  What  would  a  Roman 
soldier  or  one  of  Herod's  men  have  thought  of  that 
rustic  procession  of  a  pauper  prince  on  an  ass,  and  a 
hundred  or  two  of  weaponless,  penniless  men  ?  Christ's 
one  moment  of  royal  pomp  is  as  eloquent  of  His 
humiliation  as  the  long  stretch  of  His  lowly  life  is. 
And  yet,  as  is  always  the  case,  side  by  side  with  the 
lowliness  there  gleams  the  veiled  splendour.  He  had 
to  borrow  the  colt,  and  the  message  in  which  He  asks 
for  it  is  a  strange  paradox.    'The  Lord  hath  need  of 


92        GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [^h.  xxi. 

him' — so  great  was  the  poverty  of  so  great  a  King. 
But  it  spoke,  too,  of  a  more  than  human  kno(wledge, 
and  of  an  authority  which  had  only  to  require  iln  order 
to  receive.  Some  farming  villager,  no  doubt,  wiho  was 
a  disciple  but  secretly,  gladly  yielded  his  beasts.  The 
prophecy  which  Matthew  quotes,  with  the  oipaission 
,  of  some  words,  from  Zechariah,  and  the  addiition  of 
ithe  first  clause  from  Isaiah,  is  symbolic,  and \  would 
have  been  amply  fulfilled  in  the  mission  and  character 
of  Christ,  though  this  event  had  never  taken*  place. 
But  just  as  it  is  symbolic,  so  this  external  fulfilment, 
which  is  intended  to  point  to  the  real  fulfilment,?  s  also 
symbolic.  The  chariot  and  the  horse  are  the  emblems 
of  conquerors.  It  is  fitting  that  the  Prince  of  Peace 
should  make  His  state  entry  on  a  colt,  unridden  b!ef  ore, 
and  saddled  only  with  a  garment.  Zechariah  raeant 
that  Zion's  King  should  not  reign  by  the  right  Qf  the 
strongest,  and  that  all  His  triumphs  should  be  won  by 
lowly  meekness.  Christ  meant  the  same  by  His  remark- 
able act.  And  has  not  the  picture  of  Him,  throned 
thus,  stamped  for  ever  on  the  imagination  of  the  world 
a  profounder  sense  of  the  inmost  nature  of  His  king- 
dom than  many  words  would  have  done?  Have  we 
learned  the  lesson  of  the  gentleness  which  belongs  to 
His  kingdom,  and  of  the  unchristian  character  of  war 
and  violence?  Do  we  understand  what  the  Psalmist 
meant  when  he  sang,  '  In  thy  majesty  ride  on  pros- 
perously, because  of  .  .  .  meekness '  ?  Let  us  not 
forget  the  other  picture,  '  Behold,  a  white  horse,  and 
He  that  sat  thereon,  called  Faithful  and  True ;  and  in 
righteousness  He  doth  judge  and  make  war.' 
'  The  entry  may  remind  us  also  of  the  worthlessness 
of  mere  enthusiastic  feeling  in  reference  to  Jesus 
Christ.    The  day  was  the  Sunday.     How  many  of  that 


vs.  1-16]    THE  COMING  OF  THE  KING      93 

crowd  were  shouting  as  loudly, '  Crucify  Him !'  and  '  Not 
this  man,  but  Barabbas ! '  on  the  Friday  ?  The  palm- 
branches  had  not  faded,  where  they  had  been  tossed, 
before  the  fickle  crowd  had  swung  round  to  the  oppo- 
site mood.  Perhaps  the  very  exuberance  of  feeling  at 
the  beginning,  had  something  to  do  with  the  bitterness 
of  the  execrations  at  the  end,  of  the  week.  He  had  not 
answered  their  expectations,  but,  instead  of  heading  a 
revolt,  had  simply  taught  in  the  temple,  and  meekly 
let  Himself  be  laid  hold  of.  Nothing  succeeds  like  suc- 
cess, and  no  idol  is  so  quickly  forsaken  as  the  idol  of 
a  popular  rising.  All  were  eager  to  disclaim  connec- 
tion with  Him,  and  to  efface  the  remembrance  of  their 
Sunday's  hosannas  by  their  groans  round  His  gibbet. 
But  there  is  a  wider  lesson  here.  No  enthusiasm  can 
be  too  intense  which  is  based  upon  a  true  sense  of  our 
need  of  Christ,  and  of  His  work  for  us ;  but  it  is  easy 
to  excite  apparently  religious  emotion  by  partial  pre- 
sentations of  Him,  and  such  excitement  foams  itself 
away  by  its  very  violence,  like  some  Eastern  river  that 
in  winter  time  dashes  down  the  wady  with  irresistible 
force,  and  in  summer  is  bone  dry.  Unless  we  know 
Christ  to  be  the  Saviour  of  our  souls  and  the  Lamb  of 
God,  we  shall  soon  tire  of  singing  hosannas  in  His 
train,  and  want  a  king  with  more  pretensions ;  but  if 
we  have  learned  who  and  what  He  is  to  us,  then  let  us 
open  our  mouths  wide,  and  not  be  afraid  of  letting  the  i 
world  hear  our  shout  of  praise. 

II.  The  coming  of  the  King  in  the  temple.  The  dis- 
cussion of  the  accuracy  of  Matthew's  arrangement  of 
events  here  is  unnecessary.  He  has  evidently  grouped, 
as  usual,  incidents  which  have  a  common  bearing, 
and  wishes  to  put  these  three,  of  the  cleansing,  the 
healing,  and  the  pleasure  in  the  children's  praise,  as 


94        GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxi. 

the  characteristic  acts  of  the  King  in  the  temple. 
We  can  scarcely  avoid  seeing  in  the  first  of  the  three 
a  reference  to  Malachi's  prophecy,  '  The  Lord,  whom 
ye  seek,  shall  suddenly  come  to  His  temple.  .  .  .  And 
He  shall  purify  the  sons  of  Levi.'  His  first  act,  when 
in  manhood  He  visited  the  temple,  had  been  to  cleanse. 
His  first  act  when  He  enters  it  as  its  Lord  is  the  same. 
The  abuse  had  grown  again  apace.  Much  could  be 
said  in  its  vindication,  as  convenient  and  harmless, 
and  it  was  too  profitable  to  be  lightly  abandoned. 
But  the  altar  of  Mammon  so  near  the  altar  of  God 
was  sacrilege  in  His  eyes,  and  though  He  had  passed 
the  traders  unmolested  many  times  since  that  first 
driving  out,  now  that  He  solemnly  comes  to  claim  His 
rights.  He  cannot  but  repeat  it.  It  is  perhaps  signi- 
ficant that  His  words  now  have  both  a  more  sovereign 
and  a  more  severe  tone  than  before.  Then  He  had 
spoken  of  '  My  Father's  house,'  now  it  is  '  My  house,' 
which  are  a  part  of  His  quotation  indeed,  but  not 
therefore  necessarily  void  of  reference  to  Himself. 
He  is  exercising  the  authority  of  a  son  over  His  own 
house,  and  bears  Himself  as  Lord  of  the  temple. 
Before,  He  charged  them  with  making  it  a  *  house 
of  merchandise ' ;  now,  with  turning  it  into  a  robber's 
cave.  Evil  rebuked  and  done  again  is  worse  than 
before.  Trafficking  in  things  pertaining  to  the  altar 
is  even  more  likely  than  other  trading  to  cross  the 
not  always  very  well  defined  line  which  separates  trade 
from  trickery  and  commerce  from  theft.  That  lesson 
needs  to  be  laid  to  heart  in  many  quarters  jaow. 
There  is  always  a  fringe  of  moneyed  interests  round 
Christ's  Church,  seeking  gain  out  of  religious  institu- 
tions ;  and  their  stands  have  a  wonderful  tendency  to 
creep  inwards  from  the  court  of  the  Gentiles  to  holier 


vs.  1-16]    THE  COMING  OF  THE  KING      95 

places.  The  parasite  grows  very  quickly,  and  Christ  had 
to  deal  with  it  more  than  once  to  keep  down  its  growth. 
The  sellers  of  doves  and  changers  of  money  into  the 
sacred  shekel  were  venial  offenders  compared  with 
many  in  the  Church,  and  the  race  is  not  extinct.  If 
Christ  were  to  come  to  His  house  to-day,  in  bodily 
form,  who  doubts  that  He  would  begin,  as  He  did 
before,  by  driving  the  traders  out  of  His  temple  ? 
How  many  '  most  respectable '  usages  and  people 
would  have  to  go,  if  He  did ! 

The  second  characteristic,  or  we  might  say  sym- 
bolical, act  is  the  healing  of  the  blind  and  lame. 
Royal  state  and  cleansing  severity  are  wonderfully 
blended  with  tender  pity  and  the  gentle  hand  of  sove- 
reign virtue  to  heal.  The  very  manifestation  of  the 
former  drew  the  needy  to  Him ;  and  the  blind,  though 
they  could  not  see,  and  the  lame,  though  they  could 
not  walk,  managed  to  grope  and  hobble  their  way  to 
Him,  not  afraid  of  His  severity,  nor  daunted  by  His 
royalty.  No  doubt  they  haunted  the  temple  precincts 
as  beggars,  with  perhaps  as  little  sense  of  its  sacred- 
ness  as  the  money-changers  ;  but  their  misery  kindled 
a  flicker  of  confidence  and  desire,  to  which  He  who 
tends  the  dimmest  wick  till  it  breaks  into  clear  flame 
could  not  but  respond.  Though  in  His  house  He  casts 
out  the  traders,  He  will  heal  the  cripples  and  the  blind, 
who  know  their  need,  and  faintly  trust  His  heart  and 
power.  Such  a  trait  could  not  be  wanting  in  this 
typical  representation  of  the  acts  of  the  King. 

Finally,  He  encourages  and  casts  the  shield  of  His 
approval  round  the  children's  praises.  How  natural 
it  is  that  the  children,  pleased  with  the  stir  and  not 
yet  drilled  into  conventionalism,  should  have  kept  up 
their  glad  shouts,  even  inside  the  temple  enclosure  I 


96        GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxi. 

How  their  fresh  treble  voices  ring  yet  through  all 
these  centuries  !  The  priests  had,  no  doubt,  been  nurs- 
ing their  wrath  at  all  that  had  been  going  on,  but  they 
had  not  dared  to  interfere  with  the  cleansing,  nor,  for 
very  shame,  with  the  healings ;  but  now  they  see  their 
opportunity.  This  is  a  clear  breach  of  all  propriety, 
and  that  is  the  crime  of  crimes  in  the  eyes  of  such 
people.  They  had  kept  quite  cool  and  serenely  con- 
temptuous, amid  the  stir  of  the  glad  procession,  and 
they  did  not  much  care  though  He  healed  some  beggars ; 
but  to  have  this  unseemly  noise,  though  it  was  praise, 
was  more  than  they  could  stand.  Ecclesiastical  mar- 
tinets, and  men  whose  religion  is  mostly  ceremony,  are, 
of  course,  more  '  moved  with  indignation '  at  any  breach 
of  ceremonial  regulations  than  at  holes  made  in  graver 
laws.  Nothing  makes  men  more  insensitive  to  the 
ring  of  real  worship  than  being  accustomed  to  the  dull 
decorum  of  formal  worship.  Christ  answers  their 
'  hearest  thou  ? '  with  a  '  did  ye  never  read  ? '  and  shuts 
their  mouths  with  words  so  apposite  in  their  plainest 
meaning  that  even  they  are  silenced.  To  Him  these 
young  ringing  hosannas  are  '  perfect  praise,'  and  worth 
any  quantity  of  rabbis'  preachments.  In  their  deeper 
sense,  His  words  declare  that  the  ears  of  God  and  of 
His  Son,  the  Lord  of  the  temple,  are  more  gladly  filled 
with  the  praises  of  the  '  little  ones,'  who  know  their 
weakness,  and  hymn  His  goodness  with  simple  tongue, 
than  with  heartless  eloquence  of  words  or  pomp  of 
worship.  The  psalm  from  which  the  words  are  taken 
declares  man's  superiority  over  the  highest  works  of 
God's  hands,  and  the  perfecting  of  the  divine  praise 
from  his  lips.  "W^e  are  but  as  the  little  children  of 
creation,  but  because  we  know  sin  and  redemption,  we 
lead  the  chorus  of   heaven.       As    St.  Bernard  says, 


vs.  1-16]        A  NEW  KIND  OF  KING  97 

•  Something  is  wanting  to  the  praise  of  heaven,  if  those 
be  wanting  who  can  say,  "  We  went  through  fire  and 
through  water;  and  Thou  broughtest  us  out  into  a 
wealthy  place.'"  In  like  manner,  those  praise  Him 
most  acceptably  among  men  who  know  their  feeble- 
ness, and  with  stammering  lips  humbly  try  to  breathe 
their  love,  their  need,  and  their  trust. 


A  NEW  KIND  OF  KING 

'  All  this  was  done,  that  it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  by  the  prophet, 
saying.  Tell  ye  the  daughter  of  Zion,  Behold,  thy  King  cometh  unto  thee,  meek, 
and  sitting  upon  an  ass.'— Matt.  xxi.  i,  5. 

Our  Lord's  entrance  into  Jerusalem  is  one  of  the 
comparatively  few  events  which  are  recorded  in  all 
the  four  Gospels.  Its  singular  unlikeness  to  the  rest 
of  His  life,  and  its  powerful  influence  in  bringing  about 
the  Crucifixion,  may  account  for  its  prominence  in  the 
narratives.  It  took  place  probably  on  the  Sunday  of 
Passion  Week.  Before  the  palm  branches  were  withered 
the  enthusiasm  had  died  away,  and  the  shouting  crowd 
had  found  out  that  this  was  not  the  sort  of  king  that 
they  wanted.  They  might  have  found  that  out,  even 
by  the  very  circumstances  of  the  entrance,  for  they 
were  profoundly  significant;  though  their  meaning, 
like  so  much  of  the  rest  of  Christ's  life,  was  less  clear 
to  the  partakers  and  spectators  than  it  is  to  us.  '  These 
things  understood  not  the  disciples  at  the  first,'  says 
John  in  closing  his  narrative  of  the  entrance,  'but 
when  Jesus  was  glorified,  then  they  remembered  that 
they  had  done  these  things  unto  Hinr,/ 

My  object  in  this  sermon  is  not  at  all  to  attempt  a 
pictorial  treatment  of  this  narrative,  for  these  Gospels 

VOL.  III.  G 


98         GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxi. 

tell  it  us  a  great  deal  better  than  any  of  us  can  tell  it 
after  them  ;  but  to  seek  to  bring  out,  if  it  may  be,  two 
or  three  aspects  of  its  significance. 

I.  First,  then,  I  ask  you  to  consider  its  significance  as 
an  altogether  exceptional  fact  in  Christ's  life. 

Throughout  the  whole  of  the  preceding  period.  He 
had  had  two  aims  distinctly  in  view.  One  was  to  shun 
publicity ;  and  the  other  was  to  damp  down  the  heated, 
^  vulgar  anticipations  of  the  multitude,  who  expected  a 
temporal  king.  And  now  here  He  deliberately,  and 
of  set  purpose,  takes  a  step  which  is  like  flinging  a 
spark  into  a  powder  barrel.  The  nation  was  assembled 
in  crowds,  full  of  the  unwholesome  excitement  which 
attended  their  meeting  for  the  annual  feast.  All  were 
in  a  quiver  of  expectation;  and  knowing  that,  Jesus 
Christ  originates  this  scene  by  His  act  of  sending  the 
two  disciples  into  the  village  over  against  them,  to 
•bring  the  ass,  and  the  colt  the  foal  of  an  ass.'  The 
reasons  for  a  course  so  entirely  opposed  to  all  the  pre- 
ceding must  have  been  strong.  Let  us  try  to  see  what 
they  were. 

First,  He  did  it  in  order  to  precipitate  the  conflict 
which  was  to  end  in  His  death.  Now,  had  He  any  right 
to  do  that  ?  Knowing  as  He  did  the  ferment  of  expec- 
tation into  which  He  was  thrusting  this  new  element 
of  disturbance,  and  foreseeing,  as  He  must  have  done, 
that  it  would  sharpen  the  hostility  of  the  rulers  of 
the  people  to  a  murderous  degree,  how  can  He  be 
acquitted  of  one  of  two  things — either  singular  short- 
sightedness or  rash  foolhardiness  m  taking  such  a 
step  ?    Was  He  justified,  or  was  He  not  ? 

If  we  are  to  loo]^  at  His  conduct  from  ordinary  points 
of  view,  the  answer  must  certainly  be  that  He  was  not. 
And  we  can  only  understand  this,  and  all  the  rest  of 


vs.  4, 5]        A  NEW  KIND  OF  KING  99 

His  actions  during  the  fateful  three  or  four  days  that 
followed  it,  if  we  recognise  in  them  the  fixed  resolve  of 
One  who  knew  that  His  mission  was  not  only  to  live 
and  to  teach  by  word  and  life,  but  to  die,  and  by  death 
to  deliver  the  world.  I  take  it  that  it  is  very  hard  to 
save  the  character  of  Jesus  Christ  for  our  reverence  if 
we  refuse  to  regard  His  death  as  for  our  redemption. 
But  if  He  came,  and  knew  that  He  came,  not  only  *  to 
minister '  but '  to  give  His  life  a  ransom  for  many,'  then 
we  can  understand  how  He  hastened  to  the  Cross,  and 
deliberately  set  a  light  to  the  train  which  was  to  end 
in  that  great  explosion.  On  any  other  hypothesis  it 
seems  to  me  immensely  hard  to  account  for  His  act 
here. 

Then,  still  further,  looking  at  this  distinctly  excep- 
tional fact  in  our  Lord's  life,  we  see  in  it  a  very 
emphatic  claim  to  very  singular  prerogative  and  posi- 
tion. He  not  only  thereby  presented  Himself  before 
the  nation  in  their  collective  capacity  as  being  the 
King  of  Israel,  but  He  also  did  a  very  strange  thing. 
He  dressed  Himself,  so  to  speak,  in  order  to  fulfil  a 
prophecy.  He  posed  before  the  world  as  being  the 
Person  who  was  meant  by  sacred  old  words.  And  His 
Entrance  upon  the  slow-pacing  colt  was  His  voluntary 
and  solemn  assertion  that  He  was  the  Person  of  whom 
the  whole  stream  and  current  of  divinely  sent  pre- 
monitions and  forecasts  had  been  witnessing  from  the 
beginning.  He  claimed  thereby  to  be  the  King  of 
Israel  and  the  Fulfiller  of  the  divine  promises  that 
were  of  old. 

Now  again,  I  have  to  ask  the  question,  Was  He  right, 
or  was  He  wrong  ?  If  He  was  right,  then  He  is  a  great 
deal  more  than  a  wise  Teacher,  and  a  perfect  Example 
of  excellence.    If  He  was  wrong,  He  is  a  great  de 


100      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxi. 

less.  There  is  no  escape  from  that  alternative,  as  it 
seems  to  me,  but  by  the  desperate  expedient  of  denying 
that  He  ever  did  this  thing  which  this  narrative  tells 
us  that  He  did.  At  all  events  I  beseech  you  all,  dear 
friends,  to  take  fairly  into  your  account  of  the  char- 

lacter  of  Jesus  Christ,  this  fact,  that  He,  the  meek, 
the  gentle,  said  that  He  was  meek,  and  everybody  has 

'  believed  Him ;  and  that  once,  in  the  very  crisis  of  His 
life,  and  in  circumstances  which  make  the  act  most 
conspicuous.  He  who  always  shunned  publicity,  nor 
'  caused  His  voice  to  be  heard  in  the  streets,'  and  stead- 
fastly put  away  from  Himself  the  vulgar  homage 
that  would  have  degraded  Him  into  a  mere  temporal 

jmonarch,  did  assert  that  He  was  the  King  of  Israel 

\  and  the  FulfiUer  of  prophecy.  Ask  yourselves,  What 
does  that  fact  mean  ? 

And  then,  still  further,  looking  at  the  act  as  excep- 
tional in  our  Lord's  life,  note  that  it  was  done  in  order 
to  make  one  final,  solemn  appeal  and  offer  to  the  men 
who  beheld  Him.  It  was  the  last  bolt  in  His  quiver. 
All  else  had  failed,  perhaps  this  might  succeed.  We 
know  not  the  depths  of  the  mysteries  of  that  divine 
foreknowledge  which,  even  though  it  foresees  failure, 
ceases  not  to  plead  and  to  woo  obstinate  hearts.  But 
this  we  may  thankfully  learn,  that,  just  as  with 
despairing  hope,  but  with  unremitting  energy,  Jesus 
Christ,  often  rejected,  offered  Himself  once  more  if 
perchance  He  might  win  men  to  repentance,  so  the 
loving  patience  and  long-suffering  of  our  God  cease 
not  to  plead  ever  with  us.  '  Last  of  all  He  sent  unto 
i  them  His  Son,  saying.  They  will  reverence  My  Son 
when  they  see  Him ' ;    and  yet  the  expectation  was 

^disappointed,  and  the  Son  was  slain.    We  touch  deep 
ysteries,  but   the   persistence  of  the  pleading  and 


vs.  4, 5]         A  NEW  KIND  OF  KING  101 

rejected  love  and  pity  of  our  God  shine  through  this 
strange  fact. 

II.  And  now,  secondly,  let  me  ask  you  to  note  its 
significance  as  a  symbol. 

The  prophecy  which  two  out  of  the  four  evangelists 
— viz.,  Matthew  and  John — regard  as  having  been,  in 
some  sense,  fulfilled  by  the  Entrance  into  Jerusalem, 
would  have  been  fulfilled  quite  as  truly  if  there  had 
been  no  Entrance.  For  the  mere  detail  of  the  prophecy 
is  but  a  picturesque  way  of  setting  forth  its  central 
and  essential  point — viz.,  the  meekness  of  the  King. 
So  our  Lord's  fulfilment  is  only  an  external,  altogether 
subsidiary,  accomplishment  of  the  prophecy ;  and  in 
fact,  like  some  other  of  the  external  correspondences 
between  His  life  and  the  outward  details  of  Old  Testa- 
ment prophecy,  is  intended  for  little  more  than  a 
picture  or  a  signpost  which  may  direct  our  thoughts 
to  the  inward  correspondence,  which  is  the  true  fulfil- 
ment. 

So  then,  the  deed,  like  the  prophecy  after  which  it  is 
moulded,  is  wholly  and  entirely  of  importance  in  its 
symbolical  aspect. 

The  symbolism  is  clear  enough.  This  is  a  new  kind 
of  King.  He  comes,  not  mounted  on  a  warhorse,  or 
thundering  across  the  battlefield  in  a  scythe-armed 
chariot,  like  the  Pharaohs  and  the  Assyrian  monarchs, 
who  have  left  us  their  vainglorious  monuments,  but 
mounted  on  the  emblem  of  meekness,  patience,  gentle- 
ness, and  peace.  And  He  is  a  pauper  King,  for  He 
has  to  borrow  the  beast  on  which  He  rides,  and  His 
throne  is  draped  with  the  poor,  perhaps  ragged,  robes 
of  a  handful  of  fishermen.  And  His  attendants  are 
not  warriors  bearing  spears,  but  peasants  with  palm 
branches.    And  the  salutation  of   His  royalty  is  not 


102       GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xxi. 

the  blare  of  trumpets,  but  the  '  Hosanna ! '  from  a 
thousand  throats.  That  is  not  the  sort  of  King  that 
the  world  calls  a  King.  The  Roman  soldiers  might 
well  have  thought  they  were  perpetrating  an  ex- 
quisite jest  when  they  thrust  the  reed  into  His  un- 
resisting hand,  and  crushed  down  the  crown  of  thorns 
on  His  bleeding  brows. 

But  the  symbol  discloses  the  very  secret  of  His 
Kingdom,  the  innermost  mysteries  of  His  own 
character  and  of  the  forces  to  which  He  intrusts  the 
pA  further  progress  of  His  word.  Gentleness  is  royal  and 
omnipotent ;  force  and  violence  are  feeble.  The  Lord 
is  in  the  still,  small  voice,  not  in  the  earthquake,  nor 
the  fire,  nor  the  mighty  wind.  The  dove's  light  pinion 
will  fly  further  than  the  wings  of  Rome's  eagles,  with 
their  strong  talons  and  blood-dyed  beaks.  And  the 
kingdom  that  is  established  in  meekness,  and  rules  by 
gentleness  and  for  gentleness,  and  has  for  its  only 
weapons  the  power  of  love  and  the  omnipotence  of 
patience,  that  is  the  kingdom  which  shall  be  eternal 
and  universal. 

Now  all  that  is  a  great  deal  more  than  pretty  senti- 
ment; it  has  the  closest  practical  bearing  upon  our 
lives.  How  slow  God's  Church  has  been  to  believe 
that  the  strength  of  Christ's  kingdom  is  meekness  1 
Professing  Christian  men  have  sought  to  win  the 
world  to  their  side,  and  by  wealth  or  force  or  persecu- 
tion, or  this,  that,  or  the  other  of  the  weapons  out  of  the 
world's  armoury,  to  promote  the  kingdom  of  Christ. 
But  it  has  all  been  in  vain.  There  is  only  one  power 
that  conquers  hate,  and  that  is  meek  love.  There  is  only 
one  way  by  which  Christ's  kingdom  can  stand  firm, 
and  that  is  its  unwoijldly  contrast  to  all  the  manner 
of  human  dominion.    Wheresoever  God's  Church  has 


vs.  4, 5]  A  NEW  KIND  OF  KING  103 

allied  itself  with  secular  sovereignties,  and  trusted  in 
the  arm  of  flesh,  there  has  the  fine  gold  become 
dimmed.  Endurance  wears  out  persecution,  patient 
submission  paralyses  hostile  violence,  for  you  cannot 
keep  on  striking  down  unresisting  crowds  with  the 
sword.  The  Church  of  Christ  is  an  anvil  that  has  been 
beaten  upon  by  many  hammers,  and  it  has  worn  them 
all  out.  Meekness  is  victorious,  and  the  kingdom  of 
Christ  can  only  be  advanced  by  the  faithful  proclama- 
tion of  His  gentle  love,  from  lips  that  are  moved  by 
hearts  which  themselves  are  conformed  to  His  patient 
image. 

Then,  still  further,  let  me  remind  you  that  this 
symbol  carries  in  it,  as  it  seems  to  me,  the  lesson  of  the 
radical  incompatibility  of  war  with  Christ's  kingdom 
and  dominion.  It  has  taken  the  world  all  these 
centuries  to  begin  to  learn  that  lesson.  But  slowly 
men  are  coming  to  it,  and  the  day  will  dawn  when  all 
the  pomp  of  warfare,  and  the  hell  of  evil  passions 
from  which  it  comes,  and  which  it  stimulates,  will  be 
felt  to  be  as  utterly  incompatible  with  the  spirit  of 
Christianity  as  slavery  is  felt  to-day.  The  prophecy 
which  underlies  our  symbol  is  very  significant  in  this 
respect.  Immediately  upon  that  vision  of  the  meek 
King  throned  on  the  colt  the  foal  of  an  ass,  follows 
this :  '  And  I  will  cut  off  the  chariot  from  Ephraim,  and 
the  horses  from  Jerusalem ;  and  the  battle  bow  shall  be 
cut  off,  and  He  shall  speak  peace  unto  the  heathen.' 

Let  me  beseech  you.  Christian  men  and  women,  to 
lay  to  heart  the  duty  of  Christ's  followers  in  reference 
to  the  influence  and  leavening  of  public  opinion  upon 
this  matter,  and  to  see  to  it  that,  in  so  far  as  we  can 
help,  we  set  ourselves  steadfastly  against  that  devilish 
spirit  which  still  oppresses  with  an  incubus  almost 


104       GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch  xxi. 

intolerable,  the  nations  of  so-called  Christendom.  Lift 
up  your  voice,  be  not  afraid,  but  cry,  'We  are  the 
followers  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  and  we  war  against 
the  war  that  is  blasphemy  against  His  dominion.' 

And  so,  still  further,  note  the  practical  force  of  this 

symbol  as  influencing  our  own  conduct.    We  are  the 

followers  of  the  meek  Christ.    It  becomes  us  to  walk 

in  all  meekness  and  gentleness.    '  Spirited  conduct '  is 

the   world's   euphemism   for    unchristian    conduct,  in 

ninety-nine  cases  out  of  the  hundred.    The  perspective 

of  virtue  has  altered  since  Jesus  Christ  taught  us  how 

to  love.      The  old  heathen  virtues  of  magnanimity, 

fortitude,  and  the  like  have  'with  shame  to  take  a 

lower  room.'    There  is  something  better  than  these. 

The  saint  has  all  the  virtues  of  the  old  heathen  hero, 

and  some  more  besides,  which  are  higher  than  these, 

and  those  which  he  has  in  common,  he  has  in  different 

I    proportion.    The  flaunting  tulips  and  peonies  of  the 

)    garden  of  the  world  seem  to  outshine  the  white  snow- 

\    drops  and  the   glowing,   modest    little  violets  below 

I  their  leaves,  but  the  former  are  vulgar,  and  they  drop 

\  very  soon,  and  the  latter,  if  paler  and  more  delicate, 

I  are  refined  in  their  celestial  beauty.    The  slow-pacing 

steed  on  which  Jesus  Christ  rides  will  out-travel  the 

fiery  warhorse,  and  will  pursue  its  patient,  steadfast 

path  till  He  'bring  forth  righteousness  unto  judgment,' 

and  '  all  the  upright  in  heart  shall  follow  Him.' 

III.  Lastly,  notice  the  significance  of  this  fact  as  a 
prophecy.  It  was,  as  I  have  pointed  out,  the  last 
solemn  appeal  to  the  nation,  and  in  a  very  real  sense 
it  was  Christ's  coming  to  judgment.  It  is  impossible 
to  look  at  it  without  seeing,  besides  all  its  other  mean- 
ings, gleaming  dimly  through  it,  the  anticipations  of 
that    other  coming,   when    the    Lord    Himself   'shall 


vs.  4, 5]         A  NEW  KIND  OF  KING  105 

descend  with  a  shout,  with  the  voice  of  the  Archangel, 
and  the  trump  of  God.' 

Let  me  bring  into  connection  with  the  scene  of  my 
text  three  others,  gathered  from  various  parts  of  Scrip- 
ture. In  the  forty-fifth  Psalm  we  find,  side  by  side 
with  the  great  words,  *  Ride  on  prosperously  because 
of  truth  and  meekness  and  righteousness,'  the  others, 
'Thine  arrows  are  sharp  in  the  hearts  of  the  king's 
enemies ;  the  people  shall  fall  under  Thee.'  Now,  though 
it  is  possible  that  that  later  warlike  figure  may  be 
merely  the  carrying  out  of  the  thought  which  is  more 
gently  put  before  us  in  the  former  words,  still  it  looks 
as  if  there  were  two  sides  to  the  conquering  manifes- 
tation of  the  king — one  being  in  '  meekness  and  truth 
and  righteousness,'  and  the  other  in  some  sense  de- 
structive and  punitive. 

But,  however  that  may  be,  my  second  scene  is  drawn 
from  the  last  book  of  Scripture,  where  we  read  that, 
when  the  first  seal  was  opened,  there  rode  forth  a 
Figure,  crowned,  mounted  upon  a  white  steed,  bearing 
bow  and  arrow,  'conquering  and  to  conquer.'  And, 
though  that  again  may  be  but  an  image  of  the 
victorious  progress  of  the  gentle  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ 
throughout  the  whole  earth,  still  it  comes  as  one  in 
a  series  of  judgments,  and  may  rather  be  taken  to 
express  the  punitive  effects  which  follow  its  proclama- 
tion even  here  and  now. 

But  there  can  be  no  doubt  with  regard  to  the  third 
of  the  scenes  which  I  connect  with  the  incident  of 
which  we  are  discoursing  :  '  And  I  saw  heaven  opened, 
and  beheld  a  white  horse ;  and  He  that  sat  upon  Him 
was  called  Faithful  and  True,  and  in  righteousness 
doth  He  judge  and  make  war.  .  .  .  And  out  of  His 
mouth  goeth  a  sharp  sword,  that  with  it  He  should 


106      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xxi. 

smite  the  nations ;  and  He  shall  rule  them  with  a 
rod  of  iron ;  and  He  treadeth  the  winepress  of  the 
fierceness  and  wrath  of  Almighty  God.'  That  is  the 
Christ  who  came  into  Jerusalem  on  the  colt  the 
foal  of  an  ass.  That  is  the  Christ  who  is  meek  and 
long-suffering.  There  is  a  reserve  of  punitive  and 
destructive  power  in  the  meek  King.  And  oh !  what 
can  be  so  terrible  as  the  auger  of  meekness,  the  wrath 
of  infinite  gentleness  ?  In  the  triumphal  entry,  we 
find  that,  when  the  procession  turned  the  rocky 
shoulder  of  Olivet,  and  the  long  line  of  the  white  city 
walls,  with  the  gilding  of  the  Temple  glittering  in  the 
sunshine,  burst  upon  their  view,  the  multitude  lifted  up 
their  voices  in  gladness.  But  Christ  sat  there,  and  as 
He  looked  across  the  valley,  and  beheld,  with  His 
divine  prescience,  the  city,  now  so  joyous  and  full  of 
stir,  sitting  solitary  and  desolate,  He  lifted  up  His 
voice  in  loud  wailing.  The  Christ  wept  because  He 
must  punish,  but  He  punished  though  He  wept. 

Our  Judge  is  the  gentle  Jesus,  therefore  we  can 
hope.  The  gentle  Jesus  is  our  Judge,  therefore  let  us 
not  presume.  I  beseech  you,  brethren,  lay,  as  these 
poor  people  did  their  garments,  your  lusts  and  proud 
wills  in  His  way,  and  join  the  welcoming  shout  that 
hails  the  King, '  meek  and  having  salvation.'  And  then, 
when  He  comes  forth  to  judge  and  to  destroy,  you 
will  not  be  amongst  the  ranks  of  the  enemies,  whom 
He  will  ride  down  and  scatter,  but  amongst  'the 
armies  that  follow  Him,  .  .  .  clothed  in  fine  linen, 
clean  and  pure.' 

'  Kiss  the  Son  lest  He  be  angry,  and  ye  perish  from 
the  way  when  His  wrath  is  kindled  but  a  little. 
Blessed  are  all  they  that  put  their  trust  in  Him.' 


THE  VINEYARD  AND  ITS  KEEPERS 

'Hear  another  parable:  There  was  a  certain  householder,  which  planted  a  vine- 
yard, and  hedged  it  round  about,  and  digged  a  winepress  in  it,  and  built  a  tower, 
and  let  it  out  to  husbandmen,  and  went  into  a  far  country :  34.  And  when  the 
time  of  the  fruit  drew  near,  he  sent  his  servants  to  the  husbandmen,  that  they 
might  receive  the  fruits  of  it.  35.  And  the  husbandmen  took  his  servants,  and  beat 
one,  and  killed  another,  and  stoned  another.  36.  Again,  he  sent  other  servants  more 
than  the  first :  and  they  did  unto  them  likewise.  37.  But  last  of  all  he  sent  unto 
them  his  son,  saying.  They  will  reverence  my  son.  38.  But  when  the  husbandmen 
saw  the  son,  they  said  among  themselves.  This  is  the  heir ;  come,  let  us  kill  him, 
and  let  us  seize  on  his  inheritance.  39.  And  they  caught  him,  and  cast  him  out  of 
the  vineyard,  and  slew  him.  40.  When  the  lord  therefore  of  the  vineyard  cometh, 
what  will  he  do  unto  those  husbandmen  ?  41.  They  say  unto  him,  He  will  miserably 
destroy  those  wicked  men,  and  will  let  out  his  vineyard  unto  other  husbandmen, 
which  shall  render  him  the  fruits  in  their  seasons.  42.  Jesus  saith  unto  them.  Did 
ye  never  read  in  the  scriptures.  The  stone  which  the  builders  rejected,  the  same  ia 
become  the  head  of  the  corner  :  this  is  the  Lord's  doing,  and  it  is  marvellous  in  our 
eyes  ?  43.  Therefore  say  I  unto  you.  The  kingdon  of  God  shall  be  taken  from  you, 
and  given  to  a  nation  bringing  forth  the  fruits  thereof.  44.  And  whosoever  shall 
fall  on  this  stone  shall  be  broken  :  but  on  whomsoever  it  shall  fall,  it  will  grind 
him  to  powder.  45.  And  when  the  chief  priests  and  Pharisees  had  heard  His 
parables,  they  perceived  that  He  spake  of  them.  46.  But  when  they  sought  to  lay 
hands  on  Him,  they  feared  the  multitude,  because  they  took  Him  for  a  prophet.'— 
Matt.  xxi.  33-46. 

This  parable  was  apparently  spoken  on  the  Tuesday 
of  the  Passion  Week.  It  was  a  day  of  hand-to-hand 
conflict  with  the  Jewish  authorities  and  of  exhausting 
toil,  as  the  bare  enumeration  of  its  incidents  shows. 
It  included  all  that  Matthew  records  between  verse  20 
of  this  chapter  and  the  end  of  the  twenty-fifth  chapter 
— the  answer  to  the  deputation  from  the  Sanhedrin ; 
the  three  parables  occasioned  by  it,  namely,  those  of 
the  two  sons,  this  one,  and  that  of  the  marriage  of  the 
king's  son ;  the  three  answers  to  the  traps  of  the  Phari- 
sees and  Herodians  about  the  tribute,  of  the  Sadducees 
about  the  resurrection,  and  of  the  ruler  about  the  chief 
commandment ;  Christ's  question  to  His  questioners 
about  the  Son  and  Lord  of  David ;  the  stern  woes  hurled 
at  the  unmasked  hypocrites ;  to  which  must  be  added, 
from  other  gospels,  the  sweet  eulogium  on  the  widow's 
mite,  and  the  deep  saying  to  the  Greeks  about  the  corn 

107 


108       GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxi. 

of  wheat,  with,  possibly,  the  incident  of  the  woman 
taken  in  adultery;  and  then,  following  all  these,  the 
solemn  prophecies  of  the  end  contained  in  Matthew 
xxiv.  and  xxv.,  spoken  on  the  way  to  Bethany,  as  the 
evening  shadows  were  falling.  What  a  day !  What  a 
fountain  of  wisdom  and  love  which  poured  out  such 
streams !  The  pungent  severity  of  this  parable,  with 
its  transparent  veil  of  narrative,  is  only  appreciated 
by  keeping  clearly  in  view  the  circumstances  and  the 
listeners.  They  had  struck  at  Jesus  with  their  question 
as  to  His  authority,  and  He  parries  the  blow.  Now  it 
is  His  turn,  and  the  sharp  point  goes  home. 

I.  The  first  stage  is  the  preparation  of  the  vineyard, 
in  which  three  steps  are  marked.  It  is  planted  and 
furnished  with  all  appliances  needful  for  making  wine, 
which  is  its  great  end.  The  direct  divine  origin  of  the 
religious  ideas  and  observances  of  'Judaism'  is  thus 
asserted  by  Christ.  The  only  explanation  of  them  is 
that  God  enclosed  that  bit  of  the  wilderness,  and  with 
His  own  hands  set  growing  there  these  exotics.  Neither 
the  theology  nor  the  ritual  is  of  man's  establishing. 
We  need  not  seek  for  special  meanings  for  wall,  wine- 
press, and  tower.  They  simply  express  the  complete- 
ness of  the  equipment  of  the  vineyard,  as  in  Isaiah's 
song,  which  lies  at  the  foundation  of  the  parable,  and 
suggest  his  question,  'What  could  have  been  done 
more  ? ' 

Thus  furnished,  the  vineyard  is  next  handed  over 
to  the  husbandmen,  who,  in  Matthew,  are  exclusively 
the  rulers,  while  in  Luke  they  are  the  people.  No 
doubt  it  was  'like  people,  like  priest.'  The  strange 
dominion  of  the  Pharisees  rested  entirely  on  popular 
consent,  and  their  temper  accurately  indexed  that  of 
the  nation.     The  Sanhedrin   was  the  chief  object  at 


vs.  33-46]  THE  VINEYARD  109 

wbich  Christ  aimed  the  parable.  But  it  only  gave 
form  and  voice  to  the  national  spirit,  and  *  the  people 
loved  to  have  it  so.'  National  responsibilities  are  not 
to  be  slipped  out  of  by  being  shifted  on  to  the  broad 
shoulders  of  governments  or  influential  men.  Who 
lets  them  be  governments  and  influential  ? 

•  Guv'ment  ain't  to  answer  for  it, 
God  will  send  the  bill  to  you.' 

Christ  here  teaches  both  rulers  and  ruled  the  ground 
and  purpose  of  their  privileges.  They  prided  them- 
selves on  these  as  their  own,  but  they  were  only 
tenants.  They  made  their  '  boast  of  the  law ' ;  but  they 
forgot  that  fruit  was  the  end  of  the  divine  planting 
and  equipment.  Holiness  and  glad  obedience  were 
what  God  sought,  and  when  He  found  them,  He  was 
refreshed  as  with  '  grapes  in  the  wilderness.' 

Having  installed  the  husbandmen,  the  owner  goes 
into  another  country.  The  cluster  of  miracles  which 
inaugurate  an  epoch  of  revelation  are  not  continued 
beyond  its  beginning.  Centuries  of  comparative  divine 
silence  followed  the  planting  of  the  vineyard.  Having 
given  us  our  charge,  God,  as  it  were,  steps  aside  to 
leave  us  room  to  work  as  we  will,  and  so  to  display 
what  we  are  made  of.  He  is  absent  in  so  far  as 
conspicuous  oversight  and  retribution  are  concerned. 
He  is  present  to  help,  love,  and  bless.  The  faithful 
husbandman  has  Him  always  near,  a  joy  and  a  strength, 
else  no  fruit  would  grow  ;  but  the  sin  and  misery  of  the 
unfaithful  are  that  they  think  of  Him  as  far  off. 

II.  Then  comes  the  habitual  ill-treatment  of  the 
messengers.  These  are,  of  course,  the  prophets,  whose 
office  was  not  only  to  foretell,  but  to  plead  for  obedi- 
ence and  trust,  the  fruits  sought  by  God.    The  whole 


110      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxi. 

history  of  the  nation  is  summed  up  in  this  dark  picture. 
Generation  after  generation  of  princes,  priests,  and 
people  had  done  the  same  thing.  There  is  no  more 
remarkable  historical  fact  than  that  of  the  uniform 
hostility  of  the  Jews  to  the  prophets.  That  a  nation 
of  such  a  sort  as  always  to  hate  and  generally  to 
murder  them  should  have  had  them  in  long  succession, 
throughout  its  history,  is  surely  inexplicable  on  any 
naturalistic  hypothesis.  Such  men  were  not  the  natural 
product  of  the  race,  nor  of  its  circumstances,  as  their 
fate  shows.  How  did  they  spring  up  ?  No  '  philosophy 
of  Jewish  history'  explains  the  anomaly  except  the 
one  stated  here, — '  He  sent  His  servants.'  We  are  told 
nowadays  that  the  Jews  had  a  natural  genius  for 
religion,  just  as  the  Greeks  for  art  and  thought,  and 
the  Romans  for  law  and  order,  and  that  that  explains 
the  origin  of  the  prophets.  Does  it  explain  their 
treatment  ? 

The  hostility  of  the  husbandmen  grows  with  indul- 
gence. From  beating  they  go  on  to  killing,  and  stoning 
is  a  specially  savage  form  of  killing.  The  opposition 
which  began,  as  the  former  parable  tells  us,  with 
polite  hypocrisy  and  lip  obedience,  changed,  under  the 
stimulus  of  prophetic  appeals,  to  honest  refusal,  and 
from  that  to  violence  which  did  not  hesitate  to  slay. 
The  more  God  pleads  with  men,  the  more  self-conscious 
and  bitter  becomes  their  hatred ;  and  the  more  bitter 
their  hatred,  the  more  does  He  plead,  sending  other 
messengers,  more  perhaps  in  number,  or  possibly  of 
more  weight,  with  larger  commission  and  clearer  light. 
Thus  both  the  antagonistic  forces  grow,  and  the  worse 
men  become,  the  louder  and  more  beseeching  is  the 
call  of  God  to  them.  That  is  always  true;  and  it 
is  also  ever  true  that  he  who  begins  with  *I  go,  sir,' 


vs.  33-46]  THE  VINEYARD  111 

and  goes  not,  is  in  a  fair  way  to  end  with  stoning  the 
prophets. 

Christ  treats  the  whole  long  series  of  violent  rejec- 
tions as  the  acts  of  the  same  set  of  husbandmen.  The 
class  or  nation  was  one,  as  a  stream  is  one,  though 
all  its  particles  are  different;  and  the  Pharisees 
and  scribes,  who  stood  with  frowning  hatred  before 
Him  as  He  spoke,  were  the  living  embodiment  of 
the  spirit  which  had  animated  all  the  past.  In  so 
far  as  they  inherited  their  taint,  and  repeated  their 
conduct,  the  guilt  of  all  the  former  generations  was  laid 
at  their  door.  They  declared  themselves  their  predeces- 
sors' heirs ;  and  as  they  reproduced  their  actions,  they 
would  have  to  bear  the  accumulated  weight  of  the 
consequences. 

III.  Verses  37-39  tell  of  the  mission  of  the  Son  and  of 
its  fatal  issue.  Three  points  are  prominent  in  them. 
The  first  is  the  unique  position  which  Christ  here 
claims,  with  unwonted  openness  and  decisiveness,  as 
apart  from  and  far  above  all  the  prophets.  They  con- 
stitute one  order,  but  He  stands  alone,  sustaining  a 
closer  relation  to  God.  They  were  faithful '  as  servants,' 
but  He  '  as  a  Son,'  or,  as  Mark  has  it,  '  the  only  and 
beloved  Son.'  The  listeners  understood  Him  well 
enough.  The  assertion,  which  seemed  audacious  blas- 
phemy to  them,  fitted  in  with  all  His  acts  in  that  last 
week,  which  was  not  only  the  crisis  of  His  life,  but 
of  the  nation's  fate.  Rulers  and  people  must  decide 
whether  they  will  own  or  reject  their  King,  and  they 
must  do  it  with  their  eyes  open.  Jesus  claimed  to  fill 
a  unique  position.  Was  He  right  or  wrong  in  His 
claim  ?  If  He  was  wrong,  what  becomes  of  His  wisdom. 
His  meekness,  His  religion  ?  Is  a  religious  teacher, 
who  made  the  mistake  of  thinking  that  He  was  the 


112      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxi. 

Son  of  God  in  a  sense  in  which  no  other  man  is  so, 
worthy  of  admiration  ?  If  He  was  right,  what  becomes 
of  a  Christianity  which  sees  in  Him  only  the  foremost 
of  the  prophets  ? 

,,  The  next  point  marked  is  the  owner's  vain  hope,  in 
sending  his  Son.  He  thought  that  He  would  be  wel- 
comed, and  He  was  disappointed.  It  was  His  last 
attempt.  Christ  knew  Himself  to  be  God's  last  appeal, 
as  He  is  to  all  men,  as  well  as  to  that  generation.  He 
is  the  last  arrow  in  God's  quiver.  When  it  has  shot 
that  bolt,  the  resources  even  of  divine  love  are  ex- 
hausted, and  no  more  can  be  done  for  the  vineyard 
than  He  has  done  for  it.  We  need  not  wonder  at  un- 
fulfilled hopes  being  here  ascribed  to  God.  The  start- 
ling thought  only  puts  into  language  the  great  mystery 
which  besets  all  His  pleadings  with  men,  which  are 
carried  on,  though  they  often  fail,  and  which  must, 
therefore,  in  view  of  His  foreknowledge,  be  regarded 
as  carried  on  with  the  knowledge  that  they  will  fail. 
That  is  the  long-suffering  patience  of  God.  The  diffi- 
culty is  common  to  the  words  of  the  parable  and  to 
the  facts  of  God's  unwearied  pleading  with  impenitent 
men.  Its  surface  is  a  difficulty,  its  heart  is  an  abyss  of 
all-hoping  charity. 

The  last  point  is  the  vain  calculation  of  the  husband- 
men. Christ  puts  hidden  motives  into  plain  words, 
and  reveals  to  these  rulers  what  they  scarcely  knew  of 
their  own  hearts.  Did  they,  in  their  secret  conclaves, 
look  each  other  in  the  face,  and  confess  that  He  was 
the  Heir?  Did  He  not  Himself  ground  His  prayer  for 
their  pardon  on  their  ignorance  ?  But  their  ignorance 
was  not  entire,  else  they  had  had  no  sin ;  neither  was 
their  knowledge  complete,  else  they  had  had  no  pardon. 
Beneath  many  an  obstinate  denial  of  Him  lies  a  secret 


vs.  33-46]  THE  VINEYARD  113 

confession,  or  misgiving,  which  more  truly  speaks  the 
man  than  does  the  loud  negation.  And  such  strange 
contradictions  are  men,  that  the  secret  conviction  is 
often  the  very  thing  which  gives  bitterness  and  eager- 
ness to  the  hostility.  So  it  was  with  some  of  those  whose 
hidden  suspicions  are  here  set  in  the  light.  How  was  the 
rulers'  or  the  people's  wish  to  '  seize  on  His  inheritance ' 
their  motive  for  killing  Jesus?  Their  great  sin  was 
their  desire  to  have  their  national  prerogatives,  and 
yet  to  give  no  true  obedience.  The  ruling  class  clung  to 
their  privileges  and  forgot  their  responsibilities,  while 
the  people  were  proud  of  their  standing  as  Jews,  and 
careless  of  God's  service.  Neither  wished  to  be  re- 
minded of  their  debt  to  the  Lord  of  the  vineyard,  and 
their  hostility  to  Jesus  was  mainly  because  He  would 
call  on  them  for  fruits.  If  they  could  get  this  un- 
welcome and  persistent  voice  silenced,  they  could  go 
on  in  the  comfortable  old  fashion  of  lip-service  and 
real  selfishness.  It  is  an  account,  in  vividly  parabolic 
language,  not  only  of  their  hostility,  but  of  that  of 
many  men  who  are  against  Him.  They  wish  to  possess 
life  and  its  good,  without  being  for  ever  pestered  with 
reminders  of  the  terms  on  which  they  hold  it,  and  of 
God's  desire  for  their  love  and  obedience.  They  have 
a  secret  feeling  that  Christ  has  the  right  to  ask  for 
their  hearts,  and  so  they  often  turn  from  Him  angrily, 
and  sometimes  hate  Him. 

With  what  sad  calmness  does  Jesus  tell  the  fate  of 
the  son,  so  certain  that  it  is  already  as  good  as  done ! 
It  loas  done  in  their  counsels,  and  yet  He  does  not  cease 
to  plead,  if  perchance  some  hearts  may  be  touched 
and  withdraw  themselves  from  the  confederacy  of 
m^urder. 

IV.  We  have  next  the  self-condemnation  from  un- 

VOL.  III.  H 


114       GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxi. 

willing  lips.  Our  Lord  turns  to  the  rulers  with  start- 
ling and  dramatic  suddenness,  which  may  have  thrown 
them  off  their  guard,  so  that  their  answer  leaped  out 
before  they  had  time  to  think  whom  it  hit.  His  solemn 
earnestness  laid  a  spell  on  them,  which  drew  their  own 
condemnation  from  them,  though  they  had  penetrated 
the  thin  veil  of  the  parable,  and  knew  full  well  who  the 
husbandmen  were.  Nor  could  they  refuse  to  answer 
a  question  about  legal  punishments  for  dishonesty, 
which  was  put  to  them,  the  fountains  of  law,  without 
incurring  a  second  time  the  humiliation  just  inflicted 
when  He  had  forced  them  to  acknowledge  that  they, 
the  fountains  of  knowledge,  did  not  know  where  John 
came  from.  So  from  all  these  motives,  and  perhaps 
from  a  mingling  of  audacity,  which  would  brazen  it 
out  and  pretend  not  to  see  the  bearing  of  the  question, 
they  answer.  Like  Caiaphas  in  his  counsel,  and  Pilate 
with  his  writing  on  the  Cross,  and  many  another,  they 
spoke  deeper  things  than  they  knew,  and  confessed 
beforehand  how  just  the  judgments  were,  which 
followed  the  very  lines  marked  out  by  their  own 
words. 

V.  Then  come  the  solemn  application  and  naked 
truth  of  the  parable.  We  have  no  need  to  dwell  on 
the  cycle  of  prophecies  concerning  the  corner-stone, 
nor  on  the  original  application  of  the  psalm.  We  must 
be  content  with  remarking  that  our  Lord,  in  this  last 
portion  of  His  address,  throws  away  even  the  thin  veil 
of  parable,  and  speaks  the  sternest  truth  in  the  nakedest 
words.  He  puts  His  own  claim  in  the  plainest  fashion, 
as  the  corner-stone  on  which  the  true  kingdom  of  God 
was  to  be  built.  He  brands  the  men  who  stood  before 
Him  as  incompetent  builders,  who  did  not  know  the 
stone  needed  for  their  edifice  when  they  saw  it.    He 


vs.  33-46]  THE  VINEYARD  115 

declares,  with  triumphant  confidence,  the  futility  of 
opposition  to  Himself — even  though  it  kill  Him.  He  is 
sure  that  God  will  build  on  Him,  and  that  His  place  in 
the  building,  which  shall  rise  through  the  ages,  will 
be,  to  even  careless  eyes,  the  crown  of  the  manifest 
wonders  of  God's  hand.  Strange  words  from  a  Man 
who  knew  that  in  three  days  He  would  be  crucified! 
Stranger  still  that  they  have  come  true !  He  is  the 
foundation  of  the  best  part  of  the  best  men  ;  the  basis 
of  thought,  the  motive  for  action,  the  pattern  of  life, 
the  ground  of  hope,  for  countless  individuals ;  and  on 
Him  stands  firm  the  society  of  His  Church,  and  is  hung 
all  the  glory  of  His  Father's  house. 

Christ  confirms  the  sentence  just  spoken  by  the 
rulers  on  themselves,  but  with  the  inversion  of  its 
clauses.  All  disguise  is  at  an  end.  The  fatal  '  you '  is 
pronounced.  The  husbandmen's  calculation  had  been 
that  killing  the  heir  would  make  them  lords  of  the 
vineyard ;  the  grim  fact  was  that  they  cast  themselves 
out  when  they  cast  him  out.  He  is  the  heir.  If  we 
desire  the  inheritance,  we  must  get  it  through  Him, 
and  not  kill  or  reject,  but  trust  and  obey  Him.  The 
sentence  declares  the  two  truths,  that  possession  of 
the  vineyard  depends  on  honouring  the  Son,  and  on 
bringing  forth  the  fruits.  The  kingdom  has  been 
taken  from  the  churches  of  Asia  Minor,  Africa,  and 
Syria,  because  they  bore  no  fruit.  It  is  not  held  by  us 
on  other  conditions  Who  can  venture  to  speak  of  the 
awful  doom  set  forth  in  the  last  words  here  ?  It  has 
two  stages :  one  a  lesser  misery,  which  is  the  lot  of 
him  who  stumbles  against  the  stone,  while  it  lies 
passive  to  be  built  on ;  one  more  dreadful,  when  it  has 
acquired  motion  and  comes  down  with  irresistible 
impetus.     To  stumble  at  Christ,  or  to  refuse  His  grace, 


116      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxi. 

and  not  to  base  our  lives  and  hopes  on  Him,  is  maiming 
and  damage,  in  many  ways,  here  and  now.  But  sup- 
pose the  stone  endowed  with  motion,  what  can  stand 
against  it  ?  And  suppose  that  the  Christ,  who  is  now 
offered  for  the  rock  on  which  we  may  pile  our  hopes  and 
never  be  confounded,  comes  to  judge,  will  He  not  crush 
the  mightiest  opponent  as  the  dust  of  the  summer 
threshing-floor  ? 


THE  STONE  OF  STUMBLING 

'  Whosoever  shall  fall  on  this  stone  shall  be  broken :  but  on  whomsoever  it  shall 
fall,  it  will  grind  him  to  powder.'— Matt.  xxi.  ii. 

As  Christ's  ministry  drew  to  its  close,  its  severity  and 
its  gentleness  both  increased ;  its  severity  to  the  class 
to  whom  it  was  always  severe,  and  its  gentleness  to  the 
class  from  whom  it  never  turned  away.  Side  by  side, 
through  all  His  manifestation  of  Himself,  there  were 
the  two  aspects :  '  He  showed  Himself  froward '  (if  I 
may  quote  the  word)  to  the  self-righteous  and  the 
Pharisee;  and  He  bent  with  more  than  a  woman's 
tenderness  of  yearning  love  over  the  darkness  and 
sinfulness,  which  in  its  great  darkness  dimly  knew 
itself  blind,  and  in  its  sinfulness  stretched  out  a  lame 
hand  of  faith,  and  groped  after  a  divine  deliverer. 
Here,  in  my  text,  there  are  only  words  of  severity 
and  awful  foreboding.  Christ  has  been  telling  those 
Pharisees  and  priests  that  the  kingdom  is  to  be  taken 
from  them,  and  given  to  a  nation  that  brings  forth  the 
fruits  thereof.  He  interprets  for  them  an  Old  Testa- 
ment figure,  often  recurring,  which  we  read  in  the 
118th  Psalm  (and  I  may  just  say,  in  passing,  that  we 
get  here   His  interpretation   of   that  psalm,  and  the 


V.  44]      THE  STONE  OF  STUMBLING      117 

vindication  of  our  application  of  it,  and  other  similar 
ones,  to  Him  and  His  office);  'The  stone  which  the 
builders  rejected,' said  He,  *is  become  the  head  of  the 
corner ' ;  and  then,  falling  back  on  other  Old  Testament 
uses  of  the  same  figure,  He  weaves  into  one  the  whole 
of  them — that  in  Isaiah  about  the  'sure  foundation,' 
and  that  in  Daniel  about  'the  stone  cut  out  without 
hands,  which  became  a  great  mountain,'  crushing  down 
all  opposition, — and  centres  them  all  in  Himself;  as 
fulfilled  in  Himself,  in  His  person  and  His  work. 

The  two  clauses  of  my  text  figuratively  point  to  two 
different  classes  of  operation  on  the  rejecters  of  the 
Gospel.  What  are  these  two  classes?  'Whosoever 
shall  fall  on  this  stone  shall  be  broken :  but  on  whom- 
soever it  shall  fall,  it  will  grind  him  to  powder.'  In 
the  one  case,  the  stone  is  represented  as  passive,  lying 
quiet ;  in  the  other,  it  has  acquired  motion.  In  the  one 
case,  the  man  stumbles  and  hurts  himself;  a  remediable 
injury,  a  self-inflicted  injury,  a  natural  injury,  without 
the  active  operation  of  Christ  to  produce  it  at  all ;  in 
the  other  case  the  injury  is  worse  than  remediable,  it 
is  utter,  absolute,  grinding  destruction,  and  it  comes 
from  the  active  operation  of  the  'stone  of  stumbling.' 
That  is  to  say,  the  one  class  represents  the  present 
hurts  and  harms  which,  by  the  natural  operation  of 
things,  without  the  action  of  Christ  judicially  at  all, 
every  man  receives  in  the  very  act  of  rejecting  the 
Gospel ;  and  the  other  represents  the  ultimate  issue  of 
that  rejection,  which  rejection  is  darkened  into  opposi- 
tion and  fixed  hostility,  when  the  stone  that  was  laid 
'  for  a  foundation '  has  got  wings  (if  I  may  so  say),  and 
comes  down  in  judgment,  crushing  and  destroying  the 
antagonist  utterly.  'Whosoever  falls  on  this  stone 
is  broken,'   here    and  now;   and   'on  whomsoever  it 


118       GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxi. 

shall  fall,  it  will  grind  him  to  powder,'  hereafter  and 
yonder. 

Taking,  then,  into  account  the  weaving  together  in 
this  passage  of  the  three  figures  from  the  Old  Testa- 
ment to  which  I  have  already  referred, — the  rejected 
stone,  the  foundation,  and  the  mountain-stone  of  Daniel, 
and  looking  in  the  light  of  these,  at  the  twofold  issues, 
one  present  and  one  future,  which  the  text  distinctly 
brings  before  us, — we  have  just  three  points  to  which 
I  ask  your  attention  now.  First,  Every  man  has  some 
kind  of  contact  with  Christ.  Secondly,  Rejection  of 
Him,  here  and  now,  is  harm  and  maiming.  And,  lastly. 
Rejection  of  Him,  hereafter  and  yonder,  is  hopeless, 
endless,  utter  destruction. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  every  man  has  some  kind  of 
connection  with  Christ. 

I  am  not  going  to  enter  at  all  now  upon  any  ques- 
tion about  the  condition  of  the  '  dark  places  of  the 
earth '  where  the  Gospel  has  not  come  as  a  well-known 
preached  message;  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  that; 
the  principles  on  which  they  are  judged  is  not  the 
question  before  us  now.  I  am  speaking  exclusively 
about  persons  who  have  heard  the  word  of  salvation, 
and  are  dwelling  in  the  midst  of  what  we  call  a 
Christian  land.  Christ  is  offered  to  each  of  us,  in 
good  faith  on  God's  part,  as  a  means  of  salvation,  a 
foundation  on  which  w^e  may  build.  A  man  is  free 
to  accept  or  to  reject  that  offer.  If  he  reject  it,  he 
has  not  thereby  cut  himself  off  from  all  contact  and 
connection  with  that  rejected  Saviour,  but  he  still 
sustains  a  relation  to  Him ;  and  the  message  that  he 
has  refused  to  believe,  is  exercising  an  influence  upon 
his  character  and  his  destiny. 

Christ  comes,  I  say,  offered  to  us  all  in  good  faith  on 


V.  44]      THE  STONE  OF  STUMBLING      119 

the  part  of  God,  as  a  foundation  upon  which  we  may- 
build.  And  then  conies  in  that  strange  mystery,  that 
a  man,  consciously  free,  turns  away  from  the  offered 
mercy,  and  makes  Him  that  was  intended  to  be  the 
basis  of  his  life,  the  foundation  of  his  hope,  the  rock 
on  which,  steadfast  and  serene,  he  should  build  up  a 
temple-home  for  his  soul  to  dwell  in, — makes  Him  a 
stumbling-stone  against  which,  by  rejection  and  un- 
belief, he  breaks  himself ! 

My  friend,  will  you  let  me  lay  this  one  thing  upon 
your  heart, — you  cannot  hinder  the  Gospel  from  in- 
fluencing you  somehow.    Taking  it  in  its  lowest  aspects, 
it  is  one  of  the  forces  of  modern  society,  an  element 
in  our  present  civilisation.     It  is  everywhere,  it  ob- 
trudes itself  on  you  at  every  turn,  the  air  is  saturated 
with  its  influence.     To  be  unaffected  by  such  an  all- 
pervading  phenomenon  is  impossible.    To  no  individual 
member  of  the  great  whole  of  a  nation  is  it  given  to 
isolate  himself  utterly  from  the  community.    Whether 
he  oppose  or  whether  he  acquiesce  in  current  opinions, 
to  denude  himself  of  the  possessions  which  belong  in 
common  to  his  age  and  state  of  society  is  in  either 
case  impracticable.      'That  which  cometh  into  your 
mind,'  said  one  of  the  prophets  to  the  Jews  who  were 
trying  to  cut  themselves  loose  from  their  national 
faith  and  their  ancestral  prerogatives,   'That   which 
cometh  into  your  mind  shall  not  be  at  all,  that  ye  say, 
We  will  be  as  the  heathen,    as  the  families  of  the 
countries  to  serve  wood  and  stone.'    Vain  dream !    You 
can  no  more  say,  I  will  pass  the  Gospel  by,  and  it  shall 
be  nothing  to  me,  I  will  simply  let  it  alone,  than  you 
can  say,  I  will  shut  myself  up  from  other  influences 
proper  to  my  time  and  nation.     You  cannot  go  back 
to  the  old  naked  barbarism,  and  you  cannot  reduce  the 


120      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxi. 

influence  of  Christianity,  even  considered  merely  as 
one  of  the  characteristics  of  the  times,  to  zero.  You 
may  fancy  you  are  letting  it  alone,  but  it  does  not  let 
you  alone ;  it  is  here,  and  you  cannot  shut  yourself 
off  from  it. 

But  it  is  not  merely  as  a  subtle  and  diffused  influence 
that  the  Gospel  exercises  a  permanent  effect  upon  us. 
It  is  presented  to  each  of  us  here  individually,  in  the 
definite  form  of  an  actual  offer  of  salvation  for  each, 
and  of  an  actual  demand  of  trust  from  each.  The 
words  pass  into  our  souls,  and  thenceforward  we  can 
never  be  the  same  as  if  they  had  not  been  there.  The 
smallest  ray  of  light  falling  on  a  sensitive  plate  pro- 
duces a  chemical  change  that  can  never  be  undone 
again,  and  the  light  of  Christ's  love,  once  brought  to 
the  knowledge  and  presented  for  the  acceptance  of  a 
soul,  stamps  on  it  an  ineffaceable  sign  of  its  having 
been  there.  The  Gospel  once  heard,  is  always  the 
Gospel  which  has  been  heard.  Nothing  can  alter  that. 
Once  heard,  it  is  henceforward  a  perpetual  element 
in  the  whole  condition,  character,  and  destiny  of  the 
hearer. 

Christ  does  something  to  every  one  of  us.  His  Gospel 
will  tell  upon  you,  it  is  telling  upon  you.  If  you  dis- 
believe it,  you  are  not  the  same  as  if  you  had  never 
heard  it.  Never  is  the  box  of  ointment  opened  without 
some  savour  from  it  abiding  in  every  nostril  to  which 
its  odour  is  wafted.  Only  the  alternative,  the  awful 
'  either,  or,'  is  open  for  each — the  '  savour  of  life  unto 
life,  or  the  savour  of  death  unto  death.'  To  come  back 
to  the  illustration  of  the  text,  Christ  is  something, 
and  does  something  to  every  one  of  us.  He  is  either 
the  rock  on  which  I  build,  poor,  weak,  sinful  creature 
as  I  am,  getting  security,  and  sanctity,  and  strength 


y.  44]      THE  STONE  OF  STUMBLING      121 

from  Him,  I  being  a  living  stone,'  built  upon  *  the 
living  stone,'  and  partaking  of  the  vitality  of  the 
foundation ;  or  else  He  is  the  other  thing,  '  a  stone  of 
stumbling  and  a  rock  of  offence  to  them  which  stumble 
at  the  word.'  Christ  stands  for  ever  in  some  kind  of 
relation  to,  and  exercises  for  ever  some  kind  of  influence 
on,  every  man  who  has  heard  the  Gospel. 

II.  The  immediate  issue  of  rejection  of  Him  is  loss 
and  maiming. 

*  Whosoever  shall  fall  on  this  stone  shall  be  broken.' 
Just  think  for  a  moment,  by  way  of  illustrating  this 
principle,  first  of  all,  of  the  positive  harm  which  you  do 
to  yourself  in  the  act  of  turning  away  from  the  mercy 
offered  you  in  Christ ;  and  then  think  for  a  moment  of 
the  negative  loss  which  you  sustain  by  the  same  act. 

Note  the  positive  harm.  Am  I  uncharitable  when  I 
say  that  no  man  ever  yet  passively  neglected  the  message 
of  love  in  God's  Son ;  but  that  always  this  is  the  rude 
outline  of  the  experience  of  people  who  know  what  it 
is  to  have  a  Saviour  offered  to  them,  and  know  what  it 
is  to  put  Him  away, — that  there  is  a  feeble  and  transi- 
tory movement  of  heart  and  will;  that  Conscience 
says,  '  Thou  oughtest ' ;  that  Will  says,  •  I  would ' ;  that 
the  heart  is  touched  by  some  sense  of  that  great  and 
gentle  vision  of  light  and  love  which  passes  before  the 
eye ;  that  the  man,  as  it  were,  like  some  fever-ridden 
patient,  lifts  himself  up  for  an  instant  from  the  bed 
on  which  he  is  lying,  and  puts  out  a  hand,  and  then 
falls  back  again,  the  vacillating,  fevered,  paralysed 
will  recoiling  from  the  resolution,  and  the  conscience 
having  power  to  say,  '  Thou  oughtest,'  but  no  power  to 
enforce  the  execution  of  its  decrees,  and  the  heart 
turning  away  from  the  salvation  that  it  would  have 
found  in  the  love  of  love,  to  the  loss  that  it  finds  in  the 


V 


122       GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxi. 

love  of  self  and  earth?     Or  in  other  words,  is  it  not 
true  that  every  man  who  rejects  Christ  does  in  simple 
verity  reject  Him,  and  not  merely  neglect  Him ;  that 
there  is  always  an  efPort,  that  there  is  a  struggle,  feeble, 
perhaps,  but  real,  which  ends  in  the  turning  away? 
It  is  not  that  you  stand  there,  and  simply  let  Him  go 
past.    That  were  bad  enough  ;  but  the  fact  is  worse 
than  that.     It  is  that  you  turn  your  back  upon  Him. 
It  is  not  that  His  hand  is  laid  on  yours,  and  yours 
remains  dead  and  cold,  and  does  not  open  to  clasp  it; 
but  it  is  that  His  hand  being  laid  on  yours,  you  clench 
yours  the  tighter,  and  will  not  have  it.    And  so  every 
man  (I  believe)  who  rejects  Christ  does  these  things 
thereby — wounds    his    own    conscience,   hardens    his 
own  heart,  makes  himself  a  worse  man,  just  because 
he  has  had  a  glimpse,  and  has  willingly,  and  almost 
consciously,  'loved  darkness  rather  than  light.'     Oh, 
brethren,  the  message  of  love  can  never  come  into  a 
human  soul,  and  pass  away  from  it  unreceived,  with- 
out leaving  that   spirit    worse,  with    all    its    lowest 
characteristics    strengthened,  and    all    its    best    ones 
depressed,  by  the  fact  of  rejection.    I  have  nothing  to 
do  now  with  pursuing  that  process  to  its  end  ;  but  the 
natural  result — if  there  were  no  future  Judgment  at 
all,  if  there  were  no  movement  ever  given  to  the  stone 
that  you  ought  to  build  on — the  natural  result  of  the 
simple  rejection  of  the  Gospel  is  that,  bit  by  bit,  all  the 
lingering  remains  of  nobleness  that  hover  about  the 
man,  like  scent  about  a  broken  vase,  pass  away ;  and 
that,    step    by  step,   through    the    simple    process  of 
saying,  *  I  will  not  have  Christ  to  rule  over  me,'  the 
whole  being  degenerates,  until  manhood  becomes  devil- 
hood,  and  the  soul  is  lost  by  its  own  want  of  faith. 
Unbelief  is  its  own  judgment;    unbelief    is   its   own 


V.  44]       THE  STONE  OF  STUMBLING      123 

condemnation ;  unbelief,  as  sin,  is  punished,  like  all 
other  sins,  by  the  perpetuation  of  deeper  and  darker 
forms  of  itself.  Every  time  that  you  stifle  a  convic- 
tion, fight  down  a  conviction,  or  drive  away  a  convic- 
tion ;  and  every  time  that  you  feebly  move  towards 
the  decision,  'I  will  trust  Him,  and  love  Him,  and 
be  His,'  yet  fail  to  realise  it,  you  have  harmed  your 
soul,  you  have  made  yourself  a  worse  man,  you  have 
lowered  the  tone  of  your  conscience,  you  have  enfeebled 
your  will,  you  have  made  your  heart  harder  against 
love,  you  have  drawn  another  horny  scale  over  the 
eye,  that  will  prevent  you  from  seeing  the  light  that  is 
yonder ;  you  have,  as  much  as  in  you  is,  withdrawn 
from  God,  and  approximated  to  the  other  pole  of  the 
universe  (if  I  may  say  that),  to  the  dark  and  deadly 
antagonist  of  mercy,  and  goodness,  and  truth,  and 
grace.  •  Whosoever  falls  on  this  stone,'  by  the  natural 
result  of  his  unbelief,  *  shall  be  broken '  and  maimed, 
and  shall  mar  his  own  nature. 

I  need  not  dwell  on  the  negative  evil  results  of  un- 
belief ;  the  loss  of  that  which  is  the  only  guide  for  a 
man,  the  taking  away,  or  rather  the  failing  to  possess, 
that  great  love  above  us,  that  divine  Spirit  in  us,  by 
which  only  we  are  ever  made  what  we  ought  to  be. 
This  only  I  would  leave  with  you,  in  this  part  of  my 
subject.  Whoever  is  not  in  Christ  is  maimed.  Only  he 
that  is  '  a  man  in  Christ '  has  come  '  to  the  measure  of 
the  stature  of  a  perfect  man.'  There,  and  there  alone,  do 
we  get  the  power  which  will  make  us  full-grown.  There 
alone  is  the  soul  planted  in  that  good  soil  in  which, 
growing,  it  becomes  as  a  rounded,  perfect  tree,  with 
leaves  and  fruits  in  their  season.  All  other  men  are 
half-men,  quarter-men,  fragments  of  men,  parts  of 
humanity  exaggerated   and  contorted   and  distorted 


>fC 


124      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxl 

from  the  reconciling  whole  which  the  Christian  ought 
to  be,  and  in  proportion  to  his  Christianity  is  on  the 
road  to  be,  and  one  day  will  assuredly  and  actually  be, 
a  '  complete  and  entire  man,  wanting  nothing ' ;  nothing 
maimed,  nothing  broken,  the  realisation  of  the  ideal 
of  humanity,  the  renewed  copy  '  of  the  second  Adam, 
the  Lord  from  heaven.' 

There  is  another  consideration  closely  connected 
with  this  second  part  of  my  subject,  that  I  just  men- 
tion and  pass  on.  Not  only  by  the  act  of  rejection 
of  Christ  do  we  harm  and  maim  ourselves,  but  also 
all  attempts  at  opposition — formal  opposition — to  the 
Gospel  as  a  system,  stand  self-convicted  and  self- 
condemned  to  speedy  decay.  What  a  commentary 
upon  that  word, '  Whosoever  falls  on  this  stone  shall 
be  broken,'  is  the  whole  history  of  the  heresies  of 
the  Church  and  the  assaults  of  unbelief!  Man  after 
man,  rich  in  gifts,  endowed  often  with  far  larger 
and  nobler  faculties  than  the  people  who  oppose  him, 
with  indomitable  perseverance,  a  martyr  to  his  error, 
sets  himself  up  against  the  truth  that  is  sphered 
in  Jesus  Christ ;  and  the  great  divine  message  simply 
goes  on  its  way,  and  all  the  babblement  and  noise  are 
>^  like  so  many  bats  flying  against  a  light,  or  like  the 
sea-birds  that  come  sweeping  up  in  the  tempest  and 
the  night,  to  the  hospitable  Pharos  that  is  upon  the 
rock,  and  smite  themselves  dead  against  it.  Sceptics 
well  known  in  their  generation,  who  made  people's 
hearts  tremble  for  the  ark  of  God,  what  has  become  of 

i  them  ?  Their  books  lie  dusty  and  undisturbed  on  the 
top  shelf  of  libraries ;  whilst  there  the  Bible  stands, 
with  all  the  scribblings  wiped  off  the  page,  as  though 
they  had  never  been !     Opponents  fire  their  small  shot 

"^^  against  the  great  Rock  of  Ages,  and  the  little  pellets 


V.  44]      THE  STONE  OF  STUMBLING      125 

fall  flattened,  and  only  scale  off  a  bit  of  the  moss  that 
has  gathered  there !  My  brother,  let  the  history  of 
the  past  teach  you  and  me,  with  other  deeper  thoughts, 
a  very  calm  and  triumphant  confidence  about  all  that 
opponents  say  nowadays;  for  all  the  modern  opposition 
to  this  Gospel  will  go  as  all  the  past  has  done,  and  the 
newest  systems  which  cut  and  carve  at  Christianity, 
will  go  to  the  tomb  where  all  the  rest  have  gone ;  and 
dead  old  infidelities  will  rise  up  from  their  thrones, 
and  say  to  the  bran-new  ones  of  this  generation,  when 
their  day  is  worked  out,  'Are  ye  also  become  weak 
as  we  ?  art  thou  also  become  like  one  of  us  ? '  '  Whoso- 
ever shall  fall  on  this  stone  shall  be  broken ' :  per- 
sonally, he  will  be  harmed ;  and  his  opinions,  and  his 
books,  and  his  talk,  and  all  his  argumentation,  will 
come  to  nothing,  like  the  waves  that  break  into  im- 
potent foam  against  the  rocky  cliffs. 

III.  Last  of  all,  the  issue,  the  ultimate  issue,  of  un- 
belief is  irremediable  destruction  when  Christ  begins 
to  move. 

The  former  clause  has  spoken  about  the  harm  that 
naturally  follows  unbelief  whilst  the  Gospel  is  being 
preached;  the  latter  clause  speaks  about  the  active 
agency  of  Christ  when  the  end  shall  have  come,  and 
the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  shall  have  merged  into 
the  act  of  judgment.  I  do  not  mean  to  dwell,  brethren, 
upon  that  thought :  it  seems  to  me  far  too  awful  a  one 
to  be  handled  by  my  hands,  at  any  rate.  Let  us  leave  it 
in  the  vagueness  and  dreadfulness  of  the  words  of  Him 
who  never  spoke  exaggerated  words,  and  who,  when 
He  said,  *  It  shall  grind  him  to  powder,'  meant  (as  it 
seems  to  me)  nothing  less  than  a  destruction  which,  con- 
trasted with  the  former  remediable  wounding  and 
breaking,  was  a  destruction  utter,  and  hopeless,  and 


126      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxii. 

everlasting,  and  without  remedy.  Ground — ground  to 
powder!  Any  life  left  in  that?  any  gathering  up  of 
that,  and  making  a  man  of  it  again  ?  All  the  humanity 
battered  out  of  it,  and  the  life  clean  gone  from  it !  Does 
not  that  sound  very  much  like  '  everlasting  destruction 
from  the  presence  of  God  and  from  the  glory  of  His 
power '  ?  Christ,  silent  now,  will  begin  to  speak ; 
passive  now,  will  begin  to  act.  The  stone  comes  down, 
and  the  fall  of  it  will  be  awful.  I  remember,  away  up 
in  a  lonely  Highland  valley,  where  beneath  a  tall 
black  cliif,  all  weather-worn,  and  cracked,  and  seamed, 
there  lies  at  the  foot,  resting  on  the  greensward  that 
creeps  round  its  base,  a  huge  rock,  that  has  fallen  from 
the  face  of  the  precipice.  A  shepherd  was  passing 
beneath  it ;  and  suddenly,  when  the  finger  of  God's 
will  touched  it,  and  rent  it  from  its  ancient  bed  in  the 
everlasting  rock,  it  came  down,  leaping  and  bounding 
from  pinnacle  to  pinnacle — and  it  fell;  and  the  man 
that  was  beneath  it  is  there  now !  *  Ground  to 
powder.'  Ah,  my  brethren,  that  is  not  rtiy  illustration 
— that  is  Christ's.  Therefore  I  say  to  you,  since  all  that 
stand  against  Him  shall  become  '  as  the  chaff  of  the 
summer  threshing-floor,'  and  be  swept  utterly  away, 
make  Him  the  foundation  on  which  you  build ;  and 
when  the  storm  sweeps  away  every  '  refuge  of  lies,' 
you  will  be  safe  and  serene,  builded  upon  the  Rock  of 
Ages. 

TWO  WAYS  OF  DESPISING  GOD'S  FEAST 

•And  Jesus  answered  and  spake  unto  them  again  by  parables,  and  said,  2.  The 
kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto  a  certain  king,  which  made  a  marriage  for  his  son, 
3.  And  sent  forth  his  servants  to  call  them  that  were  bidden  to  the  wedding :  and 
they  would  not  come.  4.  Again,  he  sent  forth  other  servants,  saying.  Tell  them 
which  are  bidden,  Behold,  I  have  prepared  my  dinner :  my  oxen  and  my  fatlinga 
are  killed,  and  all  things  are  ready :  come  unto  the  marriage.  5.  But  they  made 
light  of  it,  and  went  their  ways,  one  to  his  farm,  another  to  his  merchandise: 


vs.  l-U]     DESPISING  GOD'S  FEAST  127 

6. 'And  the  remnant  took  hia  servants,  and  entreated  them  spitefully,  and  slew 
them.  7.  But  wlien  the  king  heard  thereof,  he  was  wroth :  and  he  sent  forth  his 
armies,  and  destroyed  those  murderers,  and  burned  up  their  city.  8.  Then  saith 
he  to  his  servants,  The  wedding  is  ready,  but  they  which  were  bidden  were  nob 
worthy.  9.  Go  ye  therefore  into  the  highways,  and  as  many  as  ye  shall  find,  bid 
to  the  marriage.  10.  So  those  servants  went  out  inio  the  highways,  and  gathered 
together  all  as  many  as  they  found,  both  bad  and  good :  and  the  wedding  was 
furnished  with  guests.  11.  And  when  the  king  came  in  to  see  the  guests,  he  saw 
there  a  man  which  had  not  on  a  wedding-garment :  12.  And  he  saith  unto  him. 
Friend,  how  earnest  thou  in  hither  not  having  a  wedding-garment?  And  he  was 
speechless.  13.  Then  said  the  king  to  the  servants.  Bind  him  hand  and  foot,  and 
take  him  away,  and  cast  hira  into  outer  darkness ;  there  shall  be  weeping  and 
gnashing  of  teeth.    14.  For  many  are  called,  but  few  are  chosen.'— Matt.  xxii.  1-14. 

This  parable,  and  the  preceding  one  of  the  vine-dressers, 
make  a  pair.  They  are  closely  connected  in  time,  as 
well  as  subject.  '  Jesus  answered.'  What?  Obviously, 
the  unspoken  murderous  hate,  restrained  by  fear,  which 
had  been  raised  in  the  rulers'  minds,  and  flashed  in 
their  eyes,  and  moved  in  their  gestures.  Christ  answers 
it  by  repeating  His  blow ;  for  the  present  parable  is, 
in  outline,  identical  with  the  preceding,  though  differing 
in  colouring,  and  carrying  its  thoughts  farther.  That 
stopped  with  the  transference  of  the  kingdom  to  the 
Gentiles;  this  passes  on  to  speak  also  of  the  develop- 
ment among  the  Gentiles,  and  ends  with  the  law '  many 
called,  few  chosen,'  which  is  exemplified  in  Jew  and 
Gentile.  There  are,  then,  two  parts  in  it :  verses  1-9 
covering  the  same  ground  as  the  former;  verses  10-14 
adding  new  matter. 

I.  The  judgment  on  those  who  refuse  the  offered  joys 
of  the  kingdom.  In  the  previous  parable,  the  kingdom 
was  presented  on  the  side  of  duty  and  service.  The 
call  was  to  render  obedience.  The  vineyard  was  a 
sphere  for  toil.  The  owner  had  given  it  indeed,  but, 
having  given,  he  required.  That  is  only  half  the  truth, 
and  the  least  joyful  half.  So  this  parable  dismisses  all 
ideas  of  work,  duty,  service,  requirement,  and  instead 
gives  the  emblem  of  a  marriage  feast  as  the  picture  of 
the  kingdom.    It  therein  unites  two  familiar  prophetic 


>- 


( 


128     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxii. 

images  for  the  Messianic  times — those  of  a  festival  and 
of  a  marriage.  As  Luther  says,  '  He  calls  it  a  marriage 
feast,  not  a  time  of  toil  or  a  time  of  sorrow,  but  a  tim^e 
of  holiday  and  a  time  of  joy ;  in  which  we  make  our- 
selves fine,  sing,  play,  dance,  eat,  drink,  are  glad,  and 
have  a  good  time  ;  else  it  would  not  be  a  wedding  feast, 
if  people  were  to  be  working,  mourning,  or  crying. 
Therefore,  Christ  calls  His  Christianity  and  gospel  by  the 
name  of  the  highest  joy  on  earth ;  namely,  by  the  name 
of  a  marriage  feast.'  How  pathetic  this  designation  of 
His  kingdom  is  on  Christ's  lips,  when  we  remember  how 
near  His  bitter  agony  He  stood,  and  that  He  tasted  its 
bitterness  already !  It  is  not  the  whole  truth  any  more 
than  the  vineyard  emblem  is.  Both  must  be  united  in 
our  idea  of  the  kingdom,  as  both  may  be  in  experience. 
It  is  possible  to  be  at  once  toiling  among  the  vines  in 
the  hot  sunshine,  and  feasting  at  the  table.  The  Chris- 
tian life  is  not  all  grinding  at  heavy  tasks,  nor  all 
enjoyment  of  spiritual  refreshment;  but  our  work 
may  be  so  done  as  to  be  our  '  meat ' — as  it  was  His — and 
our  glad  repose  may  be  unbroken  even  in  the  midst  of 
toil.  We  are,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  labourers  in 
the  king's  vineyard,  and  guests  at  the  king's  table; 
and  the  same  duality  will,  in  some  unknown  fashion, 
continue  in  the  perfect  kingdom,  where  there  will  be 
both  work  and  feasting,  and  all  the  life  shall  be  both 
in  one. 

The  second  point  to  be  noticed  is  the  invitations  of 
the  king.  There  had  been  an  invitation  before  the 
point  at  which  the  parable  begins,  for  the  servants  are 
sent  to  summon  those  who  had  already  been  'called.* 
That  calling,  which  lies  beyond  the  horizon  of  our 
parable,  is  the  whole  series  of  agencies  in  Old  Testament 
times.    So  this  parable  begins  almost  where  the  former 


vs.  1-14]     DESPISING  GOD'S  FEAST  129 

leaves  off.  They  only  slightly  overlap.  The  first  ser- 
vants here  are  Christ  Himself,  and  His  follovrers  in 
their  ministry  during  His  life  ;  and  the  second  set  are 
the  apostles  and  preachers  of  the  gospel  during  the 
period  between  the  completion  of  the  preparation  of 
the  feast  (that  is,  the  death  of  Christ)  and  the  destruc- 
tion of  Jerusalem.  The  characteristic  difference  of 
their  message  from  that  of  the  servants  in  the  former 
parable,  embodies  the  whole  difference  between  the 
preaching  of  the  prophets,  as  messengers  demanding 
the  fruit  of  righteousness,  and  the  glad  tidings  of  a 
gospel  of  free  grace  which  does  not  demand,  but  offers, 
and  does  not  say  '  obey '  until  it  has  said  '  eat,  and  be 
glad.'  The  reiterated  invitations  not  only  correspond 
to  the  actual  facts,  but,  like  the  facts,  set  the  miracle 
of  God's  patience  in  a  still  brighter  light  than  the 
former  story  did;  for  while  it  is  wonderful  that  the 
lord  of  the  vineyard  should  stoop  to  ask  so  often  for 
fruit,  it  is  far  more  wonderful  that  the  founder  of  the 
feast,  who  is  king  too,  should  stoop  to  offer  over  and 
over  again  the  refused  abundance  of  his  table. 

Mark,  further,  the  refusal  of  the  invitations :  '  They 
would  not  (or  "  did  not  wish  to  ")  come.'  That  is  Christ's 
gentle  way  of  describing  the  unbelief  of  His  generation. 
It  is  the  second  set  of  refusers  who  are  painted  in 
darker  colours.  We  are  accustomed  to  think  that  the 
sin  of  His  contemporaries  was  great  beyond  parallel, 
but  he  seems  here  to  hint  that  the  sin  of  those  who 
reject  Him  after  the  Cross  and  the  Resurrection,  is 
blacker  than  theirs.  At  any  rate,  it  clearly  is  so.  But 
note  that  the  parable  speaks  as  if  the  refusers  were  the 
same  persons  throughout,  thus  taking  the  same  point 
of  view  as  the  former  one  did,  and  regarding  the 
generations  of  the  Jews  as  one  whole.    There  is  a  real 

VOL.  III.  I 


) 


130     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxii. 

unity,  though  the  individuals  be  different,  if  the  spirit 
actuating  successive  generations  be  the  same. 

Note  the  two  classes  of  rejecters.  The  first  simply 
pay  no  attention,  because  their  heads  are  full  of  busi- 
ness. They  do  not  even  speak  more  or  less  lame  ex- 
cuses, as  the  refusers  in  Luke^'s  similar  parable  had  the 
decency  to  do.  The  king's  messenger  addresses  a  group, 
-i  who  pause  on  their  road  for  a  moment,  to  listen  listlessly 
to  what  he  has  to  say,  and,  when  he  has  done,  disperse 
without  a  word,  each  man  going  on  his  road,  as  if 
nothing  had  happened.  The  ground  of  their  indifference 
lies  in  their  absorption  with  this  world's  good,  and  their 
belief  that  it  is  best.  '  His  own  farm,'  as  the  original 
puts  it  emphatically,  holds  one  man  by  the  solid  delight 
of  possessing  acres  that  he  can  walk  over  and  till ;  his 
merchandise  draws  another,  by  the  excitement  of 
speculation  and  the  lust  of  acquiring.  It  is  not  only 
the  hurry  and  fever  of  a  great  commercial  city,  but  the 
quiet  and  leisure  of  country  life,  which  shut  out  taste 
for  God's  feast.  Strange  preference  of  toil  and  risk  of 
loss  to  abundance,  repose,  and  joyl  Savages  barter 
gold  for  glass  beads.  We  choose  lives  of  weary  work 
and  hunting  after  uncertain  riches,  rather  than  listen 
to  His  call,  despising  the  open-handed  housekeeping  of 
our  Father's  house,  and  trying  to  fill  our  hunger  with 
the  swine's  husks.  The  suicidal  madness  of  refusing 
the  kingdom  is  set  in  a  vivid  light  in  these  quiet  words. 
But  stranger  still  is  the  conduct  of  the  rest.  Why 
should  they  kill  men  whose  only  fault  was  bringing 
them  a  hospitable  invitation?  The  incongruity  of  the 
representation  has  given  offence  to  some  interpreters, 
who  are  not  slow  to  point  out  how  Christ  could  have 
improved  His  parable.  But  the  reality  is  more  incon- 
gruous  still,  and  the    unmotived  outburst  of  wrath 


vs.  1-14]     DESPISING  GOD'S  FEAST  131 

against  the  innocent  bearers  of  a  kindly  invitation  is 
only  too  true  to  life.  Mark  the  distinction  drawn  by 
our  Lord  between  the  bulk  of  the  people  who  simply 
neglected,  and  the  few  who  violently  opposed.  He  does 
not  charge  the  guilt  on  all.  The  murderers  of  Him  and 
of  His  first  followers  were  not  the  mass  of  the  nation, 
who,  left  to  themselves,  would  not  have  so  acted,  but 
the  few  who  stirred  up  the  many.  But,  though  He 
does  not  lay  the  guilt  at  the  doors  of  all,  yet  the 
punishment  falls  on  all,  and,  when  the  city  is  burned, 
the  houses  of  the  negligent  and  of  the  slayers  are 
equally  consumed ;  for  simple  refusal  of  the  message 
and  slaying  the  messengers  were  but  the  positive  and 
superlative  degrees  of  the  same  crime  —  rebellion 
against  the  king,  whose  invitation  was  a  command. 

The  fatal  issue  is  presented,  as  in  the  former  parable, 
in  two  parts :  the  destruction  of  the  rebels,  and  the 
passing  over  of  the  kingdom  to  others.  But  the  differ- 
ences are  noteworthy.  Here  we  read  that  'the  king 
was  wroth.'  Insult  to  a  king  is  worse  than  dishonesty 
to  a  landlord.  The  refusal  of  God's  proffered  grace 
is  even  more  certain  to  awake  that  awful  reality,  the 
wrath  of  God,  than  the  failure  to  render  the  fruits  of 
the  good  possessed.  Love  repelled  and  thrown  back 
on  itself  cannot  but  become  wrath.  That  refusal, 
which  is  rebellion,  is  fittingly  described  as  punished  by 
force  of  arms  and  the  burning  of  the  city.  We  can 
scarcely  help  seeing  that  our  Lord  here,  in  a  very 
striking  and  unusual  way,  mingles  prose  prediction  with 
parabolic  imagery.  Some  commentators  object  to  this, 
and  take  the  armies  and  the  burning  to  be  only  part  of 
the  imagery,  but  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that.  Note  the 
forcible  pronouns,  *  His  armies,'  and  '  their  city.'  The 
terrible  Roman  legions  were  His  soldiers  for  the  time 


132     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxii. 

being,  the  axe  which  He  laid  to  the  root  of  the  tree. 
The  city  had  ceased  to  be  His,  just  as  the  temple  ceased 
to  be  '  My  house,'  and  became,  by  their  sin,  *  your  house.' 
The  legend  told  that,  before  their  destruction,  a  mighty 
voice  was  heard  saying,  '  Let  us  depart,'  and,  with  the 
sound  of  rushing  wings.  His  presence  left  sanctuary 
and  city.  When  He  was  no  longer  *  the  glory  in  the 
midst,'  He  was  no  longer  *  a  wall  of  fire  round  about,' 
and  the  Roman  torches  worked  their  will  on  the  city 
which  was  no  longer  '  the  city  of  our  God.' 

The  command  to  gather  in  others  to  fill  the  vacant 
places  follows  on  the  destruction  of  the  city.  This 
may  seem  to  be  opposed  to  the  facts  of  the  transfer- 
ence of  the  kingdom  to  the  Gentiles,  which  certainly 
was  begun  long  before  Jerusalem  fell.  But  its  fall 
was  the  final  and  complete  severance  of  Christianity 
from  Judaism,  and  not  till  then  had  the  messengers  to 
give  up  the  summons  to  Israel  as  hopeless.  Perhaps 
Paul  had  this  parable  floating  in  his  memory  when  he 
said  to  the  howling  blasphemers  at  Antioch  in  Pisidia, 
'Seeing  ye  .  .  .  judge  yourselves  unworthy  of  eternal 
life,  lo,  we  turn  to  the  Gentiles.  For  so  hath  the  Lord 
commanded  us.'  *  They  which  were  bidden  were  not 
worthy,'  and  their  unworthiness  consisted  not  in  any 
other  moral  demerit,  but  solely  in  this,  that  they  had 
refused  the  proffered  blessings.  That  is  the  only  thing 
which  makes  any  of  us  unworthy.  And  that  will  make 
the  best  of  us  unworthy. 

II.  Verses  10-14  carry  us  beyond  the  preceding  parable, 
and  show  us  the  judgment  on  the  unworthy  accepters 
of  the  invitation.  There  are  two  ways  of  sinning 
against  God's  merciful  gift:  the  one  is  refusing  to 
accept  it;  the  other  is  taking  it  in  outward  seeming, 
but  continuing  in  sin.    The  former  was  the  sin  of  the 


VS.1-U]     DESPISING  GOD'S  FEAST  133 

Jews ;  the  latter  is  the  sin  of  nominal  Christians.  We 
may  briefly  note  the  points  of  this  appendix  to  the 
parable.  The  first  is  the  indiscriminate  invitation, 
which  is  more  emphatically  marked  as  being  so,  by 
the  mention  of  the  '  bad '  before  the  good  among  the 
guests.  God's  offer  is  for  all,  and,  in  a  very  real  sense, 
is  specially  sent  to  the  worst,  just  as  the  doctor  goes 
first  to  the  most  severely  wounded.  So  the  motley 
crew,  without  the  least  attempt  at  discrimination,  are 
seated  at  the  table.  If  the  Church  understands  its 
business,  it  will  have  nothing  to  do  in  its  message  with 
distinctions  of  character  any  more  than  of  class,  but, 
if  it  makes  any  difference,  will  give  the  outcast  and 
disreputable  the  first  place  in  its  efforts.  Is  that  what 
it  does  ? 

The  next  point  is  the  king's  inspection.  The  word 
rendered  '  behold '  implies  a  fixed  and  minute  observa- 
tion. When  does  that  scrutiny  take  place  ?  Obviously, 
from  the  sequel,  the  final  judgment  is  referred  to,  and 
it  is  remarkable  that  here  there  is  no  mention  of  the 
king's  son  as  the  judge.  No  parable  can  shadow  forth 
all  truth,  and  though  the  Father  '  has  committed  all 
judgment  to  the  Son,'  the  Son's  judgment  is  the 
Father's,  and  the  exigencies  of  the  parable  required  that 
the  son  as  bridegroom  should  not  be  brought  into  view 
as  judge.  Note  that  there  is  only  one  guest  without  the 
dress  needed.  That  may  be  an  instance  of  the  lenity 
of  Christ's  charity,  which  hopeth  all  things  ;  or  it  may 
rather  be  intended  to  suggest  the  keenness  of  the 
king's  glance,  which,  in  all  the  crowded  tables,  picks 
out  the  one  ragged  losel  who  had  found  his  way  there 
— so  individual  is  his  knowledge,  so  impossible  for  us 
to  hide  in  the  crowd. 

Mark  that  the  feast  has  not  begun,  though  the  guests 


134     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxii. 

are  seated.  The  judgment  stands  at  the  threshold  of 
the  heavenly  kingdom.  The  king  speaks  with  a  certain 
coldness,  very  unlike  the  welcome  fit  for  a  guest ;  and 
his  question  is  one  of  astonishment  at  the  rude  boldness 
of  the  man  who  came  there,  knowing  that  he  had  not 
the  proper  dress.  (That  knowledge  is  implied  in  the 
form  of  the  sentence  in  the  Greek.)  What,  then,  is 
the  wedding  garment?  It  can  be  nothing  else  than 
righteousness,  moral  purity,  which  fits  for  sitting  at 
His  table  in  His  kingdom.  And  the  man  who  has  it 
not,  is  the  nominal  Christian,  who  says  that  he  has 
accepted  God's  invitation,  and  lives  in  sin,  not  putting 
off  '  the  old  man  with  his  deeds,'  nor  putting  on  '  the 
new  man,  which  is  created  in  righteousness.'  How  that 
garment  was  to  be  obtained  is  no  part  of  this  parable. 
We  know  that  it  is  only  to  be  received  by  faith  in  Jesus 
Christ,  and  that  if  we  are  to  pass  the  scrutiny  of  the 
king,  it  must  be  as  *  not  having  our  own  righteousness,' 
but  His  made  ours  by  faith  which  makes  us  righteous, 
and  then  by  all  holy  effort,  and  toil  in  His  strength,  we 
must  clothe  our  souls  in  the  dress  which  befits  the  ban- 
queting hall ;  for  only  they  who  are  washed  and  clothed 
in  fine  linen,  clean  and  white,  shall  sit  there.  But 
Christ's  purpose  here  was  not  to  explain  how  the  robe 
was  to  be  procured,  but  to  insist  that  it  must  be  worn. 
'  He  was  speechless," — or,  as  the  word  means,  'muzzled.' 
The  man  is  self-condemned,  and,  having  nothing  to  say 
in  extenuation,  the  solemn  promise  is  pronounced  of 
ejection  from  the  lighted  hall,  with  limbs  bound  so 
that  he  cannot  struggle,  and  consignment  to  the 
blackness  outside,  of  which  our  Lord  adds,  in  words 
not  put  into  the  king's  mouth,  but  which  we  have 
heard  from  Him  before,  'There  shall  be  the  [well- 
known  and  terrible]  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth 


vs.  1-14]        THE  TABLES  TURNED  135 

— awful  though  figurative  expressions  for  despair  and 
passion. 

Both  parts  of  the  parable  come  under  one  law,  and 
exemplify  one  principle  of  the  kingdom,  that  its  invita- 
tions extend  more  widely  than  the  real  possession  of  its 
gifts.  The  unbelieving  Jew,  in  one  direction,  and  the 
unrighteous  Christian  in  another,  are  instances  of  this. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  that  wide  and  well- 
worn  question  of  the  ground  of  God's  choice.  That 
does  not  enter  into  the  scope  of  the  parable.  For  it, 
the  choice  is  proved  by  the  actual  participation  in  the 
feast.  They  who  do  not  choose  to  receive  the  invitation, 
or  to  put  on  the  wedding  garment,  do,  in  different  ways, 
show  that  they  are  not '  chosen '  though  '  called.'  The 
lesson  is,  not  of  interminable  and  insoluble  questionings 
about  God's  secrets,  but  of  earnest  heed  to  His  gracious 
call,  and  earnest,  believing  effort  to  make  the  fair 
garment  our  very  own,  '  if  so  be  that  being  clothed  we 
shall  not  be  found  naked.' 


THE  TABLES  TURNED :  THE  QUESTIONERS 

QUESTIONED 

'But  when  the  Pharisees  had  heard  that  He  had  put  the  Sadducees  to  silence, 
they  were  gathered  together.  35.  Then  one  of  them,  which  was  a  lawyer,  asked 
Him  a  question,  tempting  Him,  and  saying,  36.  Master,  which  is  the  great 
commandment  in  the  law?  37.  Jesus  said  unto  him.  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy 
God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind.  38  This  is 
the  first  and  great  commandment.  39.  And  the  second  is  like  unto  it.  Thou  shalt 
love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself.  40.  On  these  two  commandments  hang  all  the  law 
and  the  prophets.  41.  While  the  Pharisees  were  gathered  together,  Jesus  asked 
them,  42.  Saying,  What  think  ye  of  Christ?  whose  Son  is  He?  They  say  unto 
Him,  The  son  of  David.  43.  He  saith  unto  them.  How  then  doth  David  in  spirit 
call  Him  Lord,  saying,  44.  The  Lord  said  unto  my  Lord,  Sit  Thou  on  My  right 
hand,  till  I  make  Thine  enemies  Thy  footstool?  45.  If  David  then  call  Him  Lord, 
how  is  He  his  son  ?  46.  And  no  man  was  able  to  answer  Him  a  word ;  neither 
durst  any  man,  from  that  day  forth,  ask  Him  any  more  questions.'— Matt.  xxii.  34-46. 

Herodians,  Sadducees,  Pharisees,  who  were  at  daggers 
drawn  with  each  other,  patched  up  an  alliance  against 


136     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxii. 

Jesus,  whom  they  all  hated.  Their  questions  were 
cunningly  contrived  to  entangle  Him  in  the  cobwebs 
of  casuistry  and  theological  hair-splitting,  but  He 
walked  through  the  fine-spun  snares  as  a  lion  might 
stalk  away  with  the  nooses  set  for  him  dangling 
behind  him.  The  last  of  the  three  questions  put  to 
Jesus,  and  the  one  question  with  which  He  turned 
the  tables  and  silenced  His  questioners,  are  our  subject. 
In  the  former,  Jesus  declares  the  essence  of  the  law 
or  of  religion;  in  the  latter.  He  brings  to  light  the 
essential  loftiness  of  the  Messiah. 

I.  The  two  preceding  questions  are  represented  to 
have  been  asked  by  deputations ;  this  is  specially  noted 
as  emanating  from  an  individual.  The  '  lawyer '  seems 
to  have  anticipated  his  colleagues,  and  possibly  his 
question  was  not  that  which  they  had  meant  to  put. 
His  motive  in  asking  it  was  that  of  '  tempting '  Jesus, 
but  we  must  not  give  that  word  too  hostile  a  sense, 
for  it  may  mean  no  more  than  'testing'  or  trying. 
The  legal  expert  wished  to  find  out  the  attainments 
and  standpoint  of  this  would-be  teacher,  and  so  he 
proposed  a  question  which  would  bring  out  the  where- 
abouts of  Jesus,  and  give  opportunity  for  a  theological 
wrangle.  He  did  not  ask  the  question  for  guidance, 
but  as  an  inquisitor  cross-examining  a  suspected 
heretic.  Probably  the  question  was  a  stereotyped  one, 
and  there  are  traces  in  the  Gospels  that  the  answer 
recognised  as  orthodox  was  that  which  Jesus  gave 
(Luke  X.  27).  The  two  commandments  are  quoted 
from  Deuteronomy  vi.  5  and  Leviticus  xix.  18  respect- 
ively. The  lawyer  probably  only  desired  to  raise  a 
discussion  as  to  the  relative  worth  of  isolated  precepts. 
Jesus  goes  deep  down  below  isolated  precepts,  and 
unifies,  as  well  as  transforms,  the  law.    Supreme  and 


^> 


vs.  34-46]       THE  TABLES  TURNED  137 

undivided  love  to  God  is  not  only  the  great,  but  also 
the  first,  commandment.  In  more  modern  phrase,  it  is 
the  sum  of  man's  duty  and  the  germ  of  all  goodness. 
Note  that  Jesus  shifts  the  centre  from  conduct  to 
character,  from  deeds  to  affections.  '  As  a  man  thinketh 
in  his  heart,  so  is  he,'  said  the  sage  of  old ;  Christ 
says,  '  As  a  man  loves,  so  is  he.'  Two  loves  we  have, — 
either  the  dark  love  of  self  and  sense,  or  the  white 
love  of  God,  and  all  character  and  conduct  are  de- 
termined by  which  of  these  sways  us.  Note,  further, 
that  love  to  God  must  needs  be  undivided.  God  is 
one  and  all;  man  is  one  and  finite.  To  love  such  an 
object  with  half  a  heart  is  not  to  love.  True,  our 
weakness  leads  astray,  but  the  only  real  love  corre- 
sponding to  the  natures  of  the  lover  and  the  loved  is 
whole-hearted,  whole-souled,  whole-minded.  It  must 
be  '  all  in  all,  or  not  at  all.' 

•  A  second  is  like  unto  it,' — love  to  man  is  the  under 
side,  as  it  were,  of  love  to  God.  The  two  commandments 
are  alike,  for  both  call  for  love,  and  the  second  is  second 
because  it  is  a  consequence  of  the  first.  Each  sets  up 
a  lofty  standard ;  '  with  all  thy  heart '  and  *  as  thyself ' 
sound  equally  impossible,  but  both  result  necessarily 
from  the  nature  of  the  case.  Religion  is  the  parent  of 
all  morality,  and  especially  of  benevolent  love  to  men. 
Innate  self-regard  will  yield  to  no  force  but  that  of 
love  to  God.  It  is  vain  to  try  to  create  brotherhood 
among  men  unless  the  sense  of  God's  fatherhood  is  its 
foundation.  Love  of  neighbours  is  the  second  com- 
mandment, and  to  make  it  the  first,  as  some  do  now, 
is  to  end  all  hope  of  fulfilling  it.  Still  further,  Jesus 
hangs  law  and  prophets  on  these  two  precepts,  which, 
at  bottom,  are  one.  Not  only  will  all  other  duties  be 
done  in  doing  these,  since  *  love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the 


138     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxii. 

law,'  but  all  other  precepts,  and  all  the  prophets' 
appeals  and  exhortations,  are  but  deductions  from,  or 
helps  to  the  attainment  of,  these.  All  our  forms  of 
worship,  creeds,  and  the  like,  are  of  worth  in  so  far  as 
they  are  outcomes  of  love  to  God,  or  aid  us  in  loving 
Him  and  our  neighbours.  Without  love,  they  are  *  as 
sounding  brass,  or  a  tinkling  cymbal.' 

II.  The  Pharisees  remained  '  gathered  together,'  and 
may  have  been  preparing  another  question,  but  Jesus 
had  been  long  enough  interrogated.  It  was  not  fitting 
that  He  should  be  catechised  only.  His  questions 
teach.  He  does  not  seek  to  *  entangle'  the  Pharisees 
'  in  their  speech,'  nor  to  make  them  contradict  them- 
selves, but  brings  them  full  up  against  a  difficulty, 
that  they  may  open  their  eyes  to  the  great  truth 
which  is  its  only  solution.  His  first  question,  'What 
think  ye  of  the  Christ  ? '  is  simply  preparatory  to  the 
second.  The  answer  which  He  anticipated  was  given, — 
as,  of  course,  it  would  be,  for  the  Davidic  descent  of  the 
Messiah  was  a  commonplace  universally  accepted.  One 
can  fancy  that  the  Pharisees  smiled  complacently  at 
the  attempt  to  puzzle  them  with  such  an  elementary 
question,  but  the  smile  vanished  when  the  next  one 
came.  They  interpreted  Psalm  110  as  Messianic,  and 
David  in  it  called  Messiah  'my  Lord.'  How  can  He 
be  both?  Jesus'  question  is  in  two  forms, — 'If  He 
is  son,  how  does  David  call  Him  Lord?'  or,  if  He  is 
Lord,  'how  then  is  He  his  son?'  Take  either  designa- 
tion, and  the  other  lands  you  in  inextricable  difficulties. 

Now  what  was  our  Lord's  purpose  in  thus  driving 
the  Pharisees  into  a  corner?  Not  merely  to  'muzzle' 
them,  as  the  word  in  verse  34,  rendered  '  put  to  silence,' 
literally  means,  but  to  bring  to  light  the  inadequate 
conceptions  of  the  Messiah  and  of  the  nature  of  His 


vs.  34-46]    THE  KING'S  FAREWELL  139 

kingdom,  to  which  exclusive  recognition  of  his  Davidic 
descent  necessarily  led.  David's  son  would  be  but  a 
king  after  the  type  of  the  Herods  and  Caesars,  and 
his  kingdom  as  '  carnal '  as  the  wildest  zealot  expected, 
but  David's  Lord,  sitting  at  God's  right  hand,  and 
having  His  foes  made  His  footstool  by  Jehovah  Him- 
self,— what  sort  of  a  Messiah  King  would  that  be? 
The  majestic  image,  that  shapes  itself  dimly  here, 
was  a  revelation  that  took  the  Pharisees'  breath  away, 
and  made  them  dumb.  Nor  are  the  words  without  a 
half-disclosed  claim  on  Christ's  part  to  be  that  which 
He  was  so  soon  to  avow  Himself  before  the  high  priest 
as  being.  The  first  hearers  of  them  probably  caught 
that  meaning  partly,  and  were  horrified ;  we  hear  it 
clearly  in  the  words,  and  answer,  '  Thou  art  the  King 
of  glory,  O  Christ  I  Thou  art  the  everlasting  Son  of  the 
Father.' 

Jesus  here  says  that  Psalm  110  is  Messianic,  that 
David  was  the  author,  and  that  he  wrote  it  by  divine 
inspiration.  The  present  writer  cannot  see  how  our 
Lord's  argument  can  be  saved  from  collapse  if  the 
psalm  is  not  David's. 


THE  KING'S  FAREWELL 


•  Woe  Tinto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites !  for  ye  are  like  unto  whited 
sepulchres,  which  indeed  appear  beautiful  outward,  but  are  within  full  of  dead 
men's  bones,  and  of  all  uncleanness.  28.  Even  so  ye  also  outwardly  appear  right- 
eous unto  men,  but  within  ye  are  full  of  hypocrisy  and  iniquity.  29.  Woe  unto 
you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites  !  because  ye  build  the  tombs  of  the  prophets, 
and  garnish  the  sepulchres  of  the  righteous,  30.  And  say,  If  we  had  been  in  the 
days  of  our  fathers,  we  would  not  have  been  partakers  with  them  in  the  blood  of 
the  prophets.  31.  Wherefore  ye  be  witnesses  unto  yourselves,  that  ye  are  the 
children  of  them  which  killed  the  prophets.  32.  Fill  ye  up  then  the  measure  of 
your  fathers.  33.  Ye  serpents,  ye  generation  of  vipers,  how  can  ye  escape  the  dam- 
nation of  hell?  34.  Wherefore,  behold,  I  send  unto  you  prophets,  and  wise  men, 
and  scribes :  and  some  of  them  ye  shall  kill  and  crucify ;  and  some  of  them  shall  ye 
Bcourge  in  your  synagogues,  and  persecute  them  from  city  to  city :  35.  That  upon 
you  may  come  all  the  righteous  blood  shed  upon  the  earth,  from  the  blood  of 


140    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW   [ch.  xxiii. 

righteous  Abel  unto  the  blood  of  Zacharias  son  of  Barachias,  whom  ye  slew  be- 
tween the  temple  and  the  altar.  36.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  All  these  things  shall 
come  upon  this  generation.  37.  O  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  thou  that  killest  the  pro- 
phets, and  stonest  them  which  are  sent  unto  thee,  how  often  would  I  have  gathered 
thy  children  together,  even  as  a  hen  gathereth  her  chickens  under  her  wings,  and 
ye  would  not !  38.  Behold,  your  house  is  left  unto  you  desolate.  39.  For  I  say  unto 
you.  Ye  shall  not  see  Me  henceforth,  till  ye  shaU  say,  Blessed  is  He  that  cometh  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord.'— Matt.  xxiiL  27-39. 

If,  with  the  majority  of  authorities,  we  exclude  verse 
14  from  the  text,  there  are,  in  this  chapter,  seven  woes, 
like  seven  thunders,  launched  against  the  rulers.  They 
are  scathing  exposures,  but,  as  the  very  word  implies, 
full  of  sorrow  as  well  as  severity.  They  are  not  de- 
nunciations, but  prophecies  warning  that  the  end  of 
such  tempers  must  be  mournful.  The  wailing  of  an 
infinite  compassion,  rather  than  the  accents  of  anger, 
sounds  in  them ;  and  it  alone  is  heard  in  the  outburst 
of  lamenting  in  which  Christ's  heart  runs  over,  as  in  a 
passion  of  tears,  at  the  close.  The  blending  of  stern- 
ness and  pity,  each  perfect,  is  the  characteristic  of  this 
wonderful  climax  of  our  Lord's  appeals  to  His  nation. 
Could  such  tones  of  love  and  righteous  anger  joined 
have  been  sent  echoing  through  the  ages  in  this  Gospel, 
if  they  had  not  been  heard  ? 

I.  The  woe  of  the  *  whited  sepulchres.'  The  first  four 
woes  are  directed  mainly  to  the  teachings  of  the  scribes 
and  Pharisees ;  the  last  three  to  their  characters.  The 
two  first  of  these  fasten  on  the  same  sin,  of  hypo- 
critical holiness.  There  is,  however,  a  difference 
between  the  representation  of  hypocrites  under  the 
metaphor  of  the  clean  outside  of  the  cup  and  platter, 
and  that  of  the  whited  sepulchre.  In  the  former,  the 
hidden  sin  is  'extortion  and  excess';  that  is,  sensual 
enjoyment  wrongly  procured,  of  which  the  emblems  of 
cup  and  plate  suggest  that  good  eating  and  drinking 
are  a  chief  part.  In  the  latter,  it  is  'iniquity' — a  more 
general  and  darker  name  for  sin.    In  the  former,  the 


vs.  27-39]    THE  KING'S  FAREWELL  141 

Pharisee  is  *  blind,'  self-deceived  in  part  or  altogether ; 
in  the  latter,  stress  is  rather  laid  on  his  •  appearance 
unto  men.'  The  repetition  of  the  same  charge  in  the 
two  woes  teaches  us  Christ's  estimate  of  the  gravity 
and  frequency  of  the  sin. 

The  whitened  tombs  of  Mohammedan  saints  still 
gleam  in  the  strong  sunlight  on  many  a  knoll  in 
Palestine.  If  the  Talmudical  practice  is  as  old  as  our 
Lord's  time,  the  annual  whitewashing  was  lately  over. 
Its  purpose  was  not  to  adorn  the  tombs,  but  to  make 
them  conspicuous,  so  that  they  might  be  avoided  for 
fear  of  defilement.  So  He  would  say,  with  terrible 
irony,  that  the  apparent  holiness  of  the  rulers  was 
really  a  sign  of  corruption,  and  a  warning  to  keep 
away  from  them.  What  a  blow  at  their  self-com- 
placency !  And  how  profoundly  true  it  is  that  the 
more  punctiliously  white  the  hypocrite's  outside,  the 
more  foul  is  he  within,  and  the  wider  berth  will  all 
discerning  people  give  him  !  The  terrible  force  of  the 
figure  needs  no  dwelling  on.  In  Christ's  estimate,  such 
a  soul  was  the  very  dwelling-place  of  death ;  and  foul 
odours  and  worms  and  corruption  filled  its  sickening 
recesses.  Terrible  words  to  come  from  His  lips  into 
which  grace  was  poured,  and  bold  words  to  be  flashed 
at  listeners  who  held  the  life  of  the  Speaker  in  their 
hands!  There  are  two  sorts  of  hypocrites,  the  con- 
scious and  the  unconscious  ;  and  there  are  ten  of  the 
latter  for  one  of  the  former,  and  each  ten  times  more 
dangerous.  Established  religion  breeds  them,  and  they 
are  specially  likely  to  be  found  among  those  whose 
business  is  to  study  the  documents  in  which  it  is 
embodied.  These  woes  are  not  like  thunder-peals 
rolling  above  our  heads,  while  the  lightning  strikes 
the  earth  miles   away.     A  religion  which  is  mostly 


142     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW   [ch.xxiii. 

whitewash  is  as  common  among  us  as  ever  it  was  in 
Jerusalem;  and  its  foul  accompaniments  of  corrup- 
tion becoming  more  rotten  every  year,  as  the  white- 
wash is  laid  on  thicker,  may  be  smelt  among  us,  and 
its  fatal  end  is  as  sure. 

II.  The  woe  of  the  sepulchre  builders  (vs.  29-36).  In 
these  verses  we  have,  first,  the  specification  of  another 
form  of  hypocrisy,  consisting  in  building  the  prophets' 
tombs,  and  disavowing  the  fathers'  murder  of  them. 
Honouring  dead  prophets  was  right ;  but  honouring 
dead  ones  and  killing  living  ones  was  conscious  or  un- 
conscious hypocrisy.  The  temper  of  mind  which  leads 
to  glorifying  the  dead  witnesses,  also  leads  to  supposing 
that  all  truth  was  given  by  them ;  and  hence  that  the 
living  teachers,  who  carry  their  message  farther,  are 
false  prophets.  A  generation  which  was  ready  to  kill 
Jesus  in  honour  of  Moses,  would  have  killed  Moses  in 
honour  of  Abraham,  and  would  not  have  had  the 
faintest  apprehension  of  the  message  of  either. 

It  is  a  great  deal  easier  to  build  tombs  than  to  accept 
teachings,  and  a  good  deal  of  the  posthumous  honour 
paid  to  God's  messengers  means,  '  It 's  a  good  thing 
they  are  dead,  and  that  we  have  nothing  to  do  but  to 
put  up  a  monument.'  Bi-centenaries  and  ter-centen- 
aries  and  jubilees  do  not  always  imply  either  the 
understanding  or  the  acceptance  of  the  principles 
supposed  to  be  glorified  thereby.  But  the  magnifiers 
of  the  past  are  often  quite  unconscious  of  the  hoUow- 
ness  of  their  admiration,  and  honest  in  their  horror  of 
their  fathers'  acts ;  and  we  all  need  the  probe  of  such 
words  as  Christ's  to  pierce  the  skin  of  our  lazy  rever- 
ence for  our  fathers'  prophets,  and  let  out  the  foul 
matter  below — namely,  our  own  blindness  to  God's 
messengers  of  to-day. 


vs.  27-39]    THE  KING'S  FAREWELL  143 

The  statement  of  the  hypocrisy  is  followed,  in  verses 
31-33,  vii'ith  its  unmasking  and  condemnation.  The 
V7ords  glow  with  righteous  wrath  at  white  heat,  and 
end  in  a  burst  of  indignation,  most  unfamiliar  to  His 
lips.  Three  sentences,  like  triple  lightning  flash  from 
His  pained  heart.  With  almost  scornful  subtlety  He 
lays  hold  of  the  words  which  He  puts  into  the  Pharisees' 
mouths,  to  convict  them  of  kindred  with  those  whose 
deeds  they  would  disown.  'Our  fathers,  say  you? 
Then  you  do  belong  to  the  same  family,  after  all.  You 
confess  that  you  have  their  blood  in  your  veins ;  and,  in 
the  very  act  of  denying  sympathy  with  their  conduct, 
you  own  kindred.  And,  for  all  your  protestations, 
spiritual  kindred  goes  with  bodily  descent.*  Christ 
here  recognises  that  children  probably  'take  after  their 
parents,'  or,  in  modern  scientific  terms,  that  'heredity* 
is  the  law,  and  that  it  works  more  surely  in  the  trans- 
mission of  evil  than  of  good. 

Then  come  the  awful  words  bidding  that  generation 
'fill  up  the  measure  of  the  fathers.'  They  are  like 
the  other  command  to  Judas  to  do  his  work  quickly. 
They  are  more  than  permission,  they  are  command ; 
but  such  a  command  as,  by  its  laying  bare  of  the  true 
character  of  the  deed  in  view,  is  love's  last  effort  at 
prevention.  Mark  the  growing  emotion  of  the  lan- 
guage. Mark  the  conception  of  a  nation's  sins  as  one 
through  successive  generations,  and  the  other,  of  these 
as  having  a  definite  measure,  which  being  filled,  judg- 
ment can  no  longer  tarry.  Generation  after  genera- 
tion pours  its  contributions  into  the  vessel,  and  when 
the  last  black  drop  which  it  can  hold  has  been  added, 
then  comes  the  catastrophe.  Mark  the  fatal  necessity 
by  which  inherited  sin  becomes  darker  sin.  The 
fathers'  crimes  are  less  than  the  sons'.     This  inherit- 


144     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxiii. 

ance  increases  by  each  transmission.  The  clock  strikes 
one  more  at  each  revolution  of  the  hands. 

It  is  hard  to  recognise  Christ  in  the  terrible  words 
that  follow.  We  have  heard  part  of  them  from  John 
the  Baptist;  and  it  sounded  natural  for  him  to  call 
men  serpents  and  the  children  of  serpents,  but  it  is 
somewhat  of  a  shock  to  hear  Jesus  hurling  such  names 
at  ev6n  the  most  sinful.  But  let  us  remember  that  He 
who  sees  hearts,  has  a  right  to  tell  harsh  truths,  and 
that  it  is  truest  kindness  to  strip  off  masks  which 
hide  from  men  their  own  real  character,  and  that  the 
revelation  of  the  divine  love  in  Jesus  would  be  a  partial 
and  impotent  revelation  if  it  did  not  show  us  the 
righteous  love  which  is  wrath.  There  is  nothing  so 
terrible  as  the  anger  of  gentle  compassion,  and  the 
fiercest  and  most  destructive  wrath  is  '  the  wrath 
of  the  Lamb.'  Seldom,  indeed,  did  He  show  that 
side  of  His  character;  but  it  is  there,  and  the  other 
side  would  not  be  so  blessed  as  it  is,  unless  that  were 
there  too. 

The  woe  ends  with  the  double  prophecy  that  that 
generation  would  repeat  and  surpass  the  fathers'  guilt, 
and  that  on  it  would  fall  the  accumulated  penalties  of 
past  bloodshed.  Note  that  solemn  'therefore,'  which 
looks  back  to  the  whole  preceding  context,  and  for- 
ward to  the  whole  subsequent.  Because  the  rulers 
professed  abhorrence  of  their  fathers'  deeds,  and  yet 
inherited  their  spirit,  they  too  would  have  their  pro- 
phets, and  would  slay  them.  God  goes  on  sending  His 
messengers,  because  we  reject  them;  and  the  more 
deaf  men  are,  the  more  does  He  peal  His  words  into 
their  ears.  That  is  mercy  and  compassion,  that  all 
men  may  be  saved  and  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
truth ;  but  it  is  judgment  too,  and  its  foreseen  effect 


vs. 27-39]    THE  KING'S  FAREWELL  145 

must  be  regarded  as  part  of  the  divine  purpose  in  it. 
Christ's  desire  is  one  thing,  His  purpose  another.  His 
desire  is  that  all  should  find  in  His  gospel '  the  savour 
of  life ' ;  but  His  purpose  is  that,  if  it  be  not  that  to 
any,  it  shall  be  to  them  the  savour  of  death.  Mark, 
too,  the  authority  with  which  He,  in  the  face  of  these 
scowling  Pharisees,  assumes  the  distinct  divine  pre- 
rogative of  sending  forth  inspired  men,  who,  as  His 
messengers,  shall  stand  on  a  level  with  the  prophets 
of  old.  Mark  His  silence  as  to  His  own  fate,  which  is 
only  obscurely  hinted  at  in  the  command  to  fill  up  the 
measure  of  the  fathers.  Observe  the  detailed  enum- 
eration of  His  messengers'  gifts, — 'prophets'  under 
direct  inspiration,  like  those  of  old,  which  may  especi- 
ally refer  to  the  apostles ;  '  wise  men,'  like  a  Stephen 
or  an  ApoUos ;  *  scribes,'  such  as  Mark  and  Luke  and 
many  a  faithful  servant  since,  whose  pen  has  loved  to 
write  the  name  above  every  name.  Note  the  detailed 
prophecy  of  their  treatment,  which  begins  with  slaying 
and  goes  down  to  the  less  severe  scourging,  and  thence 
to  the  milder  persecution.  Do  the  three  punishments 
belong  to  the  three  classes  of  messengers,  the  severest 
falling  to  the  lot  of  the  most  highly  endowed,  and  even 
the  quiet  penman  being  hunted  from  city  to  city  ? 

We  need  not  wriggle  and  twist  to  try  to  avoid 
admitting  that  the  calling  of  the  martyred  Zacharias, 
*  the  son  of  Barachias,'  is  an  error  of  some  one  who 
confused  the  author  of  the  prophetic  book  with  the 
person  whose  murder  is  narrated  in  2  Chronicles  xxiv. 
We  do  not  know  who  made  the  mistake,  or  how 
it  appears  in  our  text,  but  it  is  not  honest  to  try  to  slur 
it  over.  The  punishment  of  long  ages  of  sin,  carried  on 
from  father  to  son,  does  in  the  course  of  that  history  of 
the  world,  which  is  a  part  of  the  judgment  of  the  world, 

VOL.  III.  K 


146     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxiii. 

fall  upon  one  generation.  It  takes  long  for  the  mass 
of  heaped-up  sin  to  become  top-heavy;  but  when  it  is 
so,  it  buries  one  generation  of  those  who  have  worked 
at  piling  it  up,  beneath  its  down-rushing  avalanche. 

f  The  mills  of  God  grind  slowly, 
J  But  they  grind  exceeding  small.' 

The  catastrophes  of  national  histories  are  prepared 
for  by  continuous  centuries.  The  generation  that 
laid  the  first  powder-hornful  of  the  train  is  dead  and 
buried,  long  before  the  explosion  which  sends  consti- 
tuted order  and  institutions  sky-high.  The  misery  is 
that  often  the  generation  which  has  to  pay  the  penalty 
has  begun  to  awake  to  the  sin,  and  would  be  glad 
to  mend  it,  if  it  could.  England  in  the  seventeenth 
century,  France  in  the  eighteenth,  America  in  the 
nineteenth,  had  to  reap  harvests  from  sins  sown  long 
before.  Such  is  the  law  of  the  judgment  wrought  out 
by  God's  providence  in  history.  But  there  is  another 
judgment,  begun  here  and  perfected  hereafter,  in  which 
fathers  and  sons  shall  each  bear  their  own  burden,  and 
reap  accurately  the  fruit  of  what  they  have  sown. 
'  The  soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  die.' 

III.  The  parting  wail  of  rejected  love.  The  lightning 
flashes  of  the  sevenfold  woes  end  in  a  rain  of  pity  and 
tears.  His  full  heart  overflows  in  that  sad  cry  of 
lamentation  over  the  long-continued  foiling  of  the 
efforts  of  a  love  that  would  fain  have  fondled  and 
defended.  What  intensity  of  feeling  is  in  the  re- 
doubled naming  of  the  city!  How  yearningly  and 
wistfully  He  calls,  as  if  He  might  still  win  the  faith- 
less one,  and  how  lingeringly  unwilling  He  is  to  give  up 
hope!  How  mournfully,  rather  than  accusingly.  He 
reiterates  the  acts  which  had  run  through  the  whole 


vs.  27-39]    THE  KING'S  FAREWELL  147 

history,  using  a  form  of  the  verbs  which  suggests 
continuance.  Mark,  too,  the  matter-of-course  way  in 
which  Christ  assumes  that  He  sent  all  the  prophets 
whom,  through  the  generations,  Jerusalem  had  stoned. 
So  the  lament  passes  into  the  solemn  final  leave- 
taking,  with  which  our  Lord  closes  His  ministry  among 
the  Jews,  and  departs  from  the  temple.  As,  in  the 
parable  of  the  marriage-feast,  the  city  was  emphati- 
cally called  '  their  city,'  so  here  the  Temple,  in  whose 
courts  He  was  standing,  and  which  in  a  moment 
He  was  to  quit  for  ever,  is  called  'your  house,'  be- 
cause His  departure  is  the  withdrawing  of  the  true 
Shechinah.  It  had  been  the  house  of  God  :  now  He 
casts  it  off,  and  leaves  it  to  them  to  do  as  they  will 
with  it.  The  saddest  punishment  of  long-continued 
rejection  of  His  pleading  love,  is  that  it  ceases  at  last 
to  plead.  The  bitterest  woe  for  those  who  refuse  to 
render  to  Him  the  fruits  of  the  vineyard,  is  to  get  the 
vineyard  for  their  own,  undisturbed.  Christ's  utmost 
retribution  for  obstinate  blindness  is  to  withdraw  from 
our  sight.  All  the  woes  that  were  yet  to  fall,  in  long, 
dreary  succession  on  that  nation,  so  long  continued  in 
its  sin,  so  long  continued  in  its  misery,  were  hidden 
in  that  solemn  departure  of  Christ  from  the  hencefor- 
ward empty  temple.  Let  us  fear  lest  our  unfaithfulness 
meet  the  like  penalty !  But  even  the  departure  does 
not  end  His  yearnings,  nor  close  the  long  story  of  the 
conflict  between  God's  bese*»'-'  l^g  love  and  their  un- 
belief. The  time  shall  come  when  the  nation  shall  once 
more  lift  up,  with  deeper,  truer  adoration,  the  hosannas 
of  the  triumphal  entry.  And  then  a  believing  Israel 
shall  see  their  King,  and  serve  Him.  Christ  never 
takes  final  leave  of  any  man  in  this  world.  It  is  ever 
possible  that  dumb  lips  may  be  opened  to  welcome 


148     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxiv. 

Him,  though  long  rejected;  and  His  withdrawals  are 
His  efforts  to  bring  about  that  opening.  When  it  takes 
place,  how  gladly  does  He  return  to  the  heart  which  is 
now  His  temple,  and  unveil  His  beauty  to  the  long- 
darkened  eyes ! 


TWO  FORMS  OF  ONE  SAYING 

'  He  that  endureth  to  the  end,  the  same  shall  be  saved.'— Matt.  xxiv.  13,  R.V. 
'  In  your  patience  possess  ye  your  souls.'— Luke  xxi.  19. 

These  two  sayings,  different  as  they  sound  in  our 
Version,  are  probably  divergent  representations  of  one 
original.  The  reasons  for  so  supposing  are  manifold 
and  obvious  on  a  little  consideration.  In  the  first 
place,  the  two  sayings  occur  in  the  Evangelists'  reports 
of  the  same  prophecy  and  at  the  same  point  therein. 
In  the  second  place,  the  verbal  resemblance  is  much 
greater  than  appears  in  our  Authorised  Version, 
because  the  word  rendered  '  patience '  in  Luke  is  de- 
rived from  that  translated  '  endureth '  in  Matthew ; 
and  the  true  connection  between  the  two  versions  of 
the  saying  would  have  been  more  obvious  if  we  had 
had  a  similar  word  in  both,  reading  in  the  one  *  he  that 
endureth,'  and  in  the  other  '  in  your  endurance.'  In 
the  third  place,  the  difference  between  these  two  say- 
ings presented  in  our  Version,  in  that  the  one  is  a 
promise  and  the  other  a  command,  is  due  to  an  incor- 
rect reading  of  St.  Luke's  words.  The  Revised  Version 
substitutes  for  the  imperative  '  possess '  the  promise 
•ye  shall  possess,'  and  with  that  variation  the  two 
sayings  are  brought  a  good  deal  nearer  each  other.  In 
both  endurance  is  laid  down  as  the  condition,  which  in 
both  is  followed   by  a  promise.     Then,  finally,  there 


V.13]   TWO  FORMS  OF  ONE  SAYING      149 

need  be  no  difficulty  in  seeing  that  '  possessing,'  or, 
more  literally,  '  gaining  your  souls,'  is  an  exact  equiva- 
lent of  the  other  expression,  '  ye  shall  be  saved.'  One 
cannot  but  remember  our  Lord's  solemn  antithetical 
phrase  about  a  man  '  losing  his  own  soul.'  To  '  win 
one's  soul '  is  to  be  saved ;  to  be  saved  is  to  win  one's 
soul. 

So  I  think  I  have  made  out  my  thesis  that  the  two 
sayings  are  substantially  one.  They  carry  a  great 
weight  of  warning,  of  exhortation,  and  of  encourage- 
ment to  us  all.  Let  us  try  now  to  reap  some  of  that 
harvest. 

I.  First,  then,  notice  the  view  of  our  condition  which 
underlies  these  sayings. 

It  is  a  sad  and  a  somewhat  stern  one,  but  it  is  one 
to  which,  I  think,  most  men's  hearts  will  respond,  if 
they  give  themselvdfe  leisure  to  think ;  and  if  they  '  see 
life  steadily,  and  see  it  whole.'  For  howsoever  many 
days  are  bright,  and  howsoever  all  days  are  good, 
yet,  on  the  whole,  '  man  is  a  soldier,  and  life  is  a  fight.' 
For  some  of  us  it  is  simple  endurance ;  for  all  of  us  it 
has  sometimes  been  agony ;  for  all  of  us,  always,  it 
presents  resistance  to  every  kind  of  high  and  noble 
career,  and  especially  to  the  Christian  one.  Easy-going 
optimists  try  to  skim  over  these  facts,  but  they  are 
not  to  be  so  lightly  set  aside.  You  have  only  to  look 
at  the  faces  that  you  meet  in  the  street  to  be  very 
sure  that  it  is  always  a  grave  and  sometimes  a  bitter 
thing  to  live.  And  so  our  two  texts  presuppose  that 
life  on  the  whole  demands  endurance,  whatever  may 
be  included  in  that  great  word. 

Think  of  the  inward  resistance  and  outward  hin- 
drances to  every  lofty  life.  The  scholar,  the  man  of 
culture,  the  philanthropist — all  who  would    live    for 


150     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxiv. 

anything  else  than  the  present,  the  low,  and  the 
sensual — find  that  there  is  a  banded  conspiracy,  as  it 
were,  against  them,  and  that  they  have  to  fight  their 
way  by  continual  antagonism,  by  continual  persist- 
ence, as  well  as  by  continual  endurance.  Within,  weak- 
ness, torpor,  weariness,  levity,  inconstant  wills,  bright 
purposes  clouding  over,  and  all  the  cowardice  and 
animalism  of  our  nature  war  continually  against  the 
better,  higher  self.  And  without,  there  is  a  down- 
dragging,  as  persistent  as  the  force  of  gravity,  coming 
from  the  whole  assemblage  of  external  things  that 
solicit,  and  would  fain  seduce  us.  The  old  legends  used 
to  tell  us  how,  whensoever  a  knight  set  out  upon  any 
great  and  lofty  quest,  his  path  was  beset  on  either 
side  by  voices,  sometimes  whispering  seductions,  and 
sometimes  shrieking  maledictions,  but  always  seeking 
to  withdraw  him  from  his  resolute  march  onwards 
to  his  goal.  And  every  one  of  us,  if  we  have  taken 
on  us  the  orders  of  any  lofty  chivalry,  and  especially 
if  we  have  sworn  ourselves  knights  of  the  Cross,  have 
to  meet  the  same  antagonism.  Then,  too,  there  are 
golden  apples  rolled  upon  our  path,  seeking  to  draw 
us  away  from  our  steadfast  endurance. 

Besides  the  hindrances  in  every  noble  path,  the  hin- 
drances within  and  the  hindrances  without,  the  weight 
of  self  and  the  drawing  of  earth,  there  come  to  us  all 
— in  various  degrees  no  doubt,  and  in  various  shapes 
— but  to  all  of  us  there  come  the  burdens  of  sorrows 
and  cares,  and  anxieties  and  trials.  Wherever  two  or 
three  are  gathered  together,  even  if  they  gather  for  a 
feast,  there  will  be  sonie  of  them  who  carry  a  sorrow 
which  they  know  well  will  never  be  lifted  off  their 
shoulders  and  their  hearts,  until  they  lay  down  all 
their  burdens  at  the  grave's  mouth;  and  it  is  weary 


V.  13]    TWO  FORMS  OF  ONE  SAYING     151 

work  to  plod  on  the  path  of  life  with  a  weight  that 
cannot  be  shifted,  with  a  wound  that  can  never  be 
stanched. 

Oh,  brethren,  rosy-coloured  optimism  is  all  a  dream. 
The  recognition  of  the  good  that  is  in  the  evil  is  the 
devout  man's  talisman,  but  there  is  always  need  for 
the  resistance  and  endurance  which  my  texts  prescribe. 
And  the  youngest  of  us,  the  gladdest  of  us,  the  least 
experienced  of  us,  the  most  frivolous  of  us,  if  we  will 
question  our  own  hearts,  will  hear  their  Amen  to  the 
stern,  sad  view  of  the  facts  of  earthly  life  which 
underlies  this  text. 

Though  it  has  many  other  aspects,  the  world  seems 
to  me  sometimes  to  be  like  that  pool  at  Jerusalem  in 
the  five  porches  of  which  lay,  groaning  under  various 
diseases,  but  none  of  them  without  an  ache,  a  great 
multitude  of  impotent  folk,  halt  and  blind.  Astro- 
nomers tell  us  that  one,  at  any  rate,  of  the  planets 
rolls  on  its  orbit  swathed  in  clouds  and  moisture. 
The  world  moves  wrapped  in  a  mist  of  tears.  God 
only  knows  them  all,  but  each  heart  knows  its  own 
bitterness  and  responds  to  the  words,  '  Ye  have  need 
of  patience.' 

II.  Now,  secondly,  mark  the  victorious  temper. 

That  is  referred  to  in  the  one  saying  by  'he  that 
endureth,'  and  in  the  other  '  in  your  endurance.'  Now, 
it  is  very  necessary  for  the  understanding  of  many 
places  in  Scripture  to  remember  that  the  notion  either 
of  patience  or  of  endurance  by  no  means  exhausts 
the  power  of  this  noble  Christian  word.  For  these  are 
passive  virtues,  and  however  excellent  and  needful 
they  may  be,  they  by  no  means  sum  up  our  duty  in 
regard  to  the  hindrances  and  sorrows,  the  burdens 
and  weights,  of  which  I  have  been  trying  to  speak. 


152     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxiv. 

For  you  know  it  is  only  '  what  cannot  be  cured '  that 
'must  be  endured,'  and  even  incurable  things  are  not 
merely  to  be  endured,  but  they  ought  to  be  utilised. 
It  is  not  enough  that  we  should  build  up  a  dam  to 
keep  the  floods  of  sorrow  and  trial  from  overflowing 
our  fields ;  we  must  turn  the  turbid  waters  into  our 
sluices,  and  get  them  to  drive  our  mills.  It  is  not 
enough  that  we  should  screw  ourselves  up  to  lie  un- 
resistingly under  the  surgeon's  knife;  though  God 
knows  that  it  is  as  much  as  we  can  manage  some- 
times, and  we  have  to  do  as  convicts  under  the  lash  do, 
get  a  bit  of  lead  or  a  bullet  into  our  mouths,  and  bite 
at  it  to  keep  ourselves  from  crying  out.  But  that  is 
not  all  our  duty  in  regard  to  our  trials  and  difficul- 
ties. There  is  required  something  more  than  passive 
endurance. 

This  noble  word  of  my  texts  does  mean  a  great  deal 
more  than  that.  It  means  active  persistence  as  well 
as  patient  submission.  It  is  not  enough  that  we  should 
stand  and  bear  the  pelting  of  the  pitiless  storm,  un- 
murmuring and  unbowed  by  it;  but  we  are  bound 
to  go  on  our  course,  bearing  up  and  steering  right 
onwards.  Persistent  perseverance  in  the  path  that  is 
marked  out  for  us  is  especially  the  virtue  that  our 
Lord  here  enjoins.  It  is  well  to  sit  still  unmurmuring ; 
it  is  better  to  march  on  undiverted  and  unchecked. 
And  when  we  are  able  to  keep  straight  on  in  the  path 
which  is  marked  out  for  us,  and  especially  in  the 
path  that  leads  us  to  God,  notwithstanding  all  oppos- 
ing voices,  and  all  inward  hindrances  and  reluctances ; 
when  we  are  able  to  go  to  our  tasks  of  whatever  sort 
they  are,  and  to  do  them,  though  our  hearts  are  beat- 
ing like  sledge-hammers ;  when  we  say  to  ourselves, 
»It  does  not  matter  a  bit  whether  I  am  sad  or  glad, 


V.  13]     TWO  FORMS  OF  ONE  SAYING     153 

fresh  or  wearied,  helped  or  hindered  by  circumstances, 
this  one  thing  I  do,'  then  we  have  come  to  understand 
and  to  practise  the  grace  that  our  Master  here  enjoins. 
The  endurance  which  wins  the  soul,  and  leads  to  salva- 
tion, is  no  mere  passive  submission,  excellent  and  hard 
to  attain  as  that  often  is ;  but  it  is  brave  perseverance 
in  the  face  of  all  difficulties,  and  in  spite  of  all  enemies. 

Mark  how  emphatically  our  Lord  here  makes  the 
space  within  which  that  virtue  has  to  be  exercised 
conterminous  with  the  whole  duration  of  our  lives.  I 
need  not  discuss  what  '  the  end '  was  in  the  original 
application  of  the  words ;  that  would  take  us  too  far 
afield.  But  this  I  desire  to  insist  upon,  that  right  on 
to  the  very  close  of  life  we  are  to  expect  the  necessity 
of  putting  forth  the  exercise  of  the  very  same  persist- 
ence by  which  the  earlier  stages  of  any  noble  career 
must  necessarily  be  marked.  In  other  departments  of 
life  there  may  be  relaxation,  as  a  man  goes  on  through 
the  years  ;  but  in  the  culture  of  our  characters,  and  in 
the  deepening  of  our  faith,  and  in  the  drawing  near 
to  our  God,  there  must  be  no  cessation  or  diminution 
of  earnestness  and  of  effort  right  up  to  the  close. 

There  are  plenty  of  people,  and  I  dare  say  that  I 
address  some  of  them  now,  who  began  their  Christian 
career  full  of  vigour  and  with  a  heat  that  was  too  hot 
to  last.  But,  alas,  in  a  year  or  two  all  the  fervency 
was  past,  and  they  settled  down  into  the  average,  easy- 
going, unprogressive  Christian,  who  is  a  wet  blanket 
to  the  devotion  and  work  of  a  Christian  church.  I 
wonder  how  many  of  us  would  scarcely  know  our  own 
former  selves  if  we  could  see  them.  Christian  people, 
to  how  many  of  us  should  the  word  be  rung  in  our 
ears  :  '  Ye  did  run  well ;  what  did  hinder  you '  ?  The 
answer  is — Myself, 


154     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxiv. 

But  may  I  say  that  this  emphatic  *  to  the  end '  has 
a  special  lesson  for  us  older  people,  who,  as  natural 
strength  abates  and  enthusiasm  cools  down,  are  apt  to 
be  but  the  shadows  of  our  old  selves  in  many  things  ? 
But  there  should  be  fire  within  the  mountain,  though 
there  may  be  snow  on  its  crest.  Many  a  ship  has  been 
lost  on  the  harbour  bar;  and  there  is  no  excuse 
for  the  captain  leaving  the  bridge,  or  the  engineer 
coming  up  from  the  engine-room,  stormy  as  the  one 
position  and  stifling  as  the  other  may  be,  until  the 
anchor  is  down,  and  the  vessel  is  moored  and  quiet  in 
the  desired  haven.  The  desert,  with  its  wild  beasts  and 
its  Bedouin,  reaches  right  up  to  the  city  gates,  and 
until  we  are  within  these  we  need  to  keep  our  hands 
on  our  sword-hilts  and  be  ready  for  conflict.  *  He  that 
endureth  to  the  end,  the  same  shall  be  saved.' 

III.  Lastly,  note  the  crown  which  endurance  wins. 

Now,  I  need  not  spend  or  waste  your  time  in  mere 
verbal  criticism,  but  I  wish  to  point  out  that  that  word 
*  soul '  in  one  of  our  two  texts  means  both  the  soul  and 
the  life  of  which  it  is  the  seat ;  and  also  to  remark  that 
the  being  saved  and  the  winning  of  the  life  or  the  soul 
has  distinct  application,  in  our  Lord's  words,  primarily 
to  corporeal  safety  and  preservation  in  the  midst  of 
dangers ;  and,  still  further,  to  note  the  emphatic  '  in 
your  patience,'  as  suggesting  not  only  a  future  but  a 
present  acquisition  of  one's  own  soul,  or  life,  as  the 
result  of  such  persevering  endurance  and  enduring 
perseverance.  All  which  things  being  kept  in  view,  I 
may  expand  the  great  promise  that  lies  in  my  text,  as 
follows : — 

First,  by  such  persevering  persistence  in  the  Christian 
path,  we  gain  ourselves.  Self-surrender  is  self-posses- 
sion.   We  never  own  ourselves  till  we  have  given  up 


T.  13]    TWO  FORMS  OF  ONE  SAYING      155 

owning  ourselves,  and  yielded  ourselves  to  that  Lord 
who  gives  us  back  saints  to  ourselves.  Self-control  is 
self-possession.  We  do  not  own  ourselves  as  long  as 
it  is  possible  for  any  weakness  in  flesh,  sense,  or  spirit 
to  gain  dominion  over  us  and  hinder  us  from  doing 
what  we  know  to  be  right.  We  are  not  our  own 
masters  then.  'Whilst  they  promise  them  liberty, 
they  themselves  are  the  bond-slaves  of  corruption.'  It 
is  only  when  we  have  the  bit  well  into  the  jaws  of  the 
brutes,  and  the  reins  tight  in  our  hands,  so  that  a 
finger- touch  can  check  or  divert  the  course,  that  we 
are  truly  lords  of  the  chariot  in  which  we  ride  and  of 
the  animals  that  impel  it. 

And  such  self-control  which  is  the  winning  of  our- 
selves is,  as  I  believe,  thoroughly  realised  only  when, 
by  self-surrender  of  ourselves  to  Jesus  Christ,  we  get 
His  help  to  govern  ourselves  and  so  become  lords  of 
ourselves.  Some  little  petty  Rajah,  up  in  the  hills, 
in  a  quasi-independent  State  in  India,  is  troubled  by 
mutineers  whom  he  cannot  subdue  ;  what  does  he  do  ? 
He  sends  a  message  down  to  Lahore  or  Calcutta,  and 
up  come  English  troops  that  consolidate  his  dominion, 
and  he  rules  securely,  when  he  has  consented  to  become 
a  feudatory,  and  recognise  his  overlord.  And  so  you 
and  I,  by  continual  repetition,  in  the  face  of  self  and 
sin,  of  our  acts  of  self-surrender,  bring  Christ  into  the 
field ;  and  then,  when  we  have  said,  '  Lord,  take  me ; 
I  live,  yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me ' ;  and  when 
we  daily,  in  spite  of  hindrances,  stand  to  the  surrender 
and  repeat  the  consecration,  then  *  in  our  perseverance 
we  acquire  our  souls.' 

Again,  such  persistence  wins  even  the  bodily  life, 
whether  it  preserves  it  or  loses  it.  I  have  said  that 
the  words  of  our  texts  have  an  application  to  bodily 


156     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW   [ch.  xxiv. 

preservation  in  the  midst  of  the  dreadful  dangers  of 
the  siege  and  destruction  of  Jerusalem.  But  so  regarded 
they  are  a  paradox.  For  hear  how  the  Master  intro- 
duces them :  '  Some  of  you  shall  they  cause  to  be  put 
to  death,  but  there  shall  not  a  hair  of  your  heads 
perish.  In  your  perseverance  ye  shall  win  your  lives.' 
'  Some  of  you  they  will  put  to  death,'  but  ye  '  shall 
win  your  lives,' — a  paradox  which  can  only  be  solved 
by  experience.  Whether  this  bodily  life  be  preserved 
or  lost,  it  is  gained  when  it  is  used  as  a  means  of 
attaining  the  higher  life  of  union  with  God.  Many  a 
martyr  had  the  promise, '  Not  a  hair  of  your  head  shall 
perish,'  fulfilled  at  the  very  moment  when  the  falling 
axe  shore  his  locks  in  twain,  and  severed  his  head  from 
his  body. 

Finally,  full  salvation,  the  true  possession  of  himself, 
and  the  acquisition  of  the  life  which  really  is  life, 
comes  to  a  man  who  perseveres  to  the  end,  and  thus 
passes  to  the  land  where  he  will  receive  the  recom- 
pense of  the  reward.  The  one  moment  the  runner, 
with  flushed  cheek  and  forward  swaying  body,  hot, 
with  panting  breath,  and  every  muscle  strained,  is 
straining  to  the  winning-post;  and  the  next  moment, 
in  utter  calm,  he  is  wearing  the  crown. 

'  To  the  end,'  and  what  a  contrast  the  next  moment 
will  be!  Brethren,  may  it  be  true  of  you  and  of  me 
that  *  we  are  not  of  them  that  draw  back  unto  per- 
dition, but  of  them  that  believe  to  the  winning  of 
their  souls  I ' 


THE  CARRION  AND  THE  VULTURES 

'  Wheresoever  the  carcase  is,  there  will  the  eagles  he  gathered  together.' 

Matt.  xxiv.  28. 

This  grim  parable  has,  of  course,  a  strong  Eastern 
colouring.  It  is  best  appreciated  by  dwellers  in  those 
lands.  They  tell  us  that  no  sooner  is  some  sickly 
animal  dead,  or  some  piece  of  carrion  thrown  out  by 
the  way,  than  the  vultures — for  the  eagle  does  not  prey 
upon  carrion — appear.  There  may  not  have  been  one 
visible  a  moment  before  in  the  hot  blue  sky,  but,  taught 
by  scent  or  by  sight  that  their  banquet  is  prepared, 
they  come  flocking  from  all  corners  of  the  heavens,  a 
hideous  crowd  round  their  hideous  meal,  fighting  with 
flapping  wings  and  tearing  it  with  their  strong  talons. 
And  so,  says  Christ,  wherever  there  is  a  rotting,  dead 
society,  a  carcase  hopelessly  corrupt  and  evil,  down 
upon  it,  as  if  drawn  by  some  unerring  attraction,  will 
come  the  angels,  the  vultures  of  the  divine  judgment. 

The  words  of  my  text  were  spoken,  according  to  the 
version  of  them  in  Luke's  Gospel,  in  answer  to  a  ques- 
tion from  the  disciples.  Our  Lord  had  been  discoursing, 
in  very  solemn  words,  which,  starting  from  the  historical 
event  of  the  impending  fall  of  Jerusalem,  had  gradually 
passed  into  a  description  of  the  greater  event  of  His 
second  coming.  And  all  these  solemn  warnings  had 
stirred  nothing  deeper  in  the  bosoms  of  the  disciples 
than  a  tepid  and  idle  curiosity  which  expressed  itself 
in  the  one  almost  irrelevant  question,  '  Where,  Lord  ? ' 
He  answers — Not  here,  not  there,  but  everywhere  where 
there  is  a  carcase.  The  great  event  which  is  referred 
to  in  our  Lord's  solemn  words  is  a  future  judgment, 

167 


158    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxiv. 

which  is  to  be  universal.  But  the  words  are  not  ex- 
hausted in  their  reference  to  that  event.  There  have 
been  many  '  comings  of  the  Lord,'  many  '  days  of  the 
Lord,'  which  on  a  smaller  scale  have  embodied  the  same 
principles  as  are  to  be  displayed  in  world-wide  splendour 
and  awf  ulness  at  the  last. 

I.  The  first  thing,  then,  in  these  most  true  and  solemn 
words  is  this,  that  they  are  to  us  a  revelation  of  a  law 
which  operates  with  unerring  certainty  through  all  the 
course  of  the  world's  history. 

We  cannot  tell,  but  God  can,  when  evil  has  become 
incurable;  or  when,  in  the  language  of  my  text,  the 
mass  of  any  community  has  become  a  carcase.  There 
may  be  flickerings  of  life,  all  unseen  by  our  eyes,  or 
there  may  be  death,  all  unsuspected  by  our  shallow 
vision.  So  long  as  there  is  a  possibility  of  amendment, 
'  sentence  against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed  speedily'; 
and  God  dams  back,  as  it  were,  the  flow  of  His  retri- 
butive judgment,  '  not  willing  that  any  should  perish, 
but  that  all  should  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
truth.'  But  when  He  sees  that  all  is  vain,  that  no 
longer  is  restoration  or  recovery  possible,  then  He  lets 
loose  the  flood ;  or,  in  the  language  of  my  text,  when 
the  thing  has  become  a  carcase,  then  the  vultures, 
God's  scavengers,  come  and  clear  it  away  from  off  the 
face  of  the  earth. 

Now  that  is  the  law  that  has  been  working  from  the 
beginning,  working  as  well  in  regard  to  the  long  delays 
as  in  regard  to  the  swift  execution.  There  is  another 
metaphor,  in  the  Old  Testament,  that  puts  the  same 
idea  in  a  very  striking  form.  It  speaks  about  God's 
•  awakening,'  as  if  His  judgment  slumbered.  All  round 
that  dial  the  hand  goes  creeping,  creeping,  creeping 
slowly,  but  when  it  comes  to  the  appointed  line,  then 


V.28]   THE  CARRION  AND  VULTURES    159 

the  bell  strikes.  And  so  years  and  centuries  go  by,  all 
chance  of  recovery  departs,  and  then  the  crash !  The 
ice  palace,  built  upon  the  frozen  blocks,  stands  for  a 
while,  but  when  the  spring  thaws  come,  it  breaks  up. 

Let  me  remind  you  of  some  instances  and  illustra- 
tions. Take  that  story  which  people  stumble  over  in 
the  early  part  of  the  Old  Testament  revelation — the 
sweeping  away  of  those  Canaanitish  nations  whose 
hideous  immoralities  had  turned  the  land  into  a  perfect 
sty  of  abominations.  There  they  had  been  wallowing, 
and  God's  Spirit,  which  strives  with  men  ever  and 
always,  had  been  striving  with  them,  we  know  not  for 
how  long,  but  when  the  time  came  at  which,  according  to 
the  grim  metaphor  of  the  Old  Testament,  'the  measure 
of  their  iniquity  was  full,'  then  He  hurled  upon  them 
the  fierce  hosts  out  of  the  desert,  and  in  a  whirlwind  of 
fire  and  sword  swept  them  off  the  face  of  the  earth. 

Take  another  illustration.  These  very  people,  who 
had  been  the  executioners  of  divine  judgment,  settled 
in  the  land,  fell  into  the  snare — and  you  know  the 
story.  The  captivities  of  Israel  and  Judah  were  other 
illustrations  of  the  same  thing.  The  fall  of  Jerusalem, 
to  which  our  Lord  pointed  in  the  solemn  context  of 
these  words,  was  another.  For  millenniums  God  had 
been  pleading  with  them,  sending  His  prophets,  rising 
early  and  sending,  saying,  '  Oh,  do  not  do  this  abomin- 
able thing  which  I  hate ! '  '  And  last  of  all  He  sent  His 
Son.'  Christ  being  rejected,  God  had  shot  His  last  bolt. 
He  had  no  more  that  He  could  do.  Christ  being  refused, 
the  nation's  doom  was  fixed  and  sealed,  and  down  came 
the  eagles  of  Rome,  again  God's  scavengers,  to  sweep 
away  the  nation  on  which  had  been  lavished  such 
wealth  of  divine  love,  but  which  had  now  come  to  be 
a  rotting  abomination,  and  to  this  day  remains  in  a 


160     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxiv. 

living  death,  a  miraculously  preserved  monument  of 
God's  judgments. 

Take  another  illustration  how,  once  more,  the  execu- 
tants of  the  law  fall  under  its  power.  That  nation 
which  crushed  the  feeble  resources  of  Judaea,  as  a  giant 
might  crush  a  mosquito  in  his  grasp,  in  its  turn  became 
honeycombed  with  abominations  and  immoralities  ; 
and  then  down  from  the  frozen  north  came  the  fierce 
Gothic  tribes  over  the  Roman  territory.  One  of  their 
captains  called  himself  the  '  Scourge  of  God,'  and  he 
was  right.  Another  swooping  down  of  the  vultures 
flashed  from  the  blue  heavens,  and  the  carrion  was 
torn  to  fragments  by  their  strong  beaks. 

Take  one  more  illustration — that  French  Revolution 
at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  fathers 
sowed  the  wind,  and  the  children  reaped  the  whirlwind. 
Generations  of  heartless  luxury,  selfishness,  careless- 
ness of  the  cry  of  the  poor,  immoral  separation  of  class 
from  class,  and  all  the  sins  which  a  ruling  caste  could 
commit  against  a  subject  people,  had  prepared  for  the 
convulsion.  Then,  in  a  carnival  of  blood  and  deluges 
of  fire  and  sulphur,  the  rotten  thing  was  swept  off  the 
face  of  the  earth,  and  the  world  breathed  more  freely 
for  its  destruction. 

Take  another  illustration,  through  which  many  of  us 
have  lived.  The  bitter  legacy  of  negro  slavery  that 
England  gave  to  her  giant  son  across  the  Atlantic, 
which  blasted  and  sucked  the  strength  out  of  that 
great  republic,  went  down  amidst  universal  execration. 
It  took  centuries  for  the  corpse  to  be  ready,  but  when 
the  vultures  came  they  made  quick  work  of  it. 

And  so,  as  I  say,  all  over  the  world,  and  from  the 
beginning  of  time,  with  delays  according  to  the  pos- 
sibilities of  restoration  and  recovery  which  the  divine 


V.  28]   THE  CARRION  AND  VULTURES    161 

eye  discerns,  this  law  is  working.  Verily  there  is  a 
God  that  judgeth  in  the  earth.  'The  wheels  of  God 
grind  slowly,  but  they  grind  exceeding  small.'  'Where- 
soever the  carcase  is,  there  will  the  eagles  be  gathered 
together.' 

And  has  the  law  exhausted  its  force  ?  Are  there 
going  to  be  no  more  applications  of  it  ?  Are  there  no 
European  societies  at  this  day  that  in  their  godlessness 
and  social  iniquities  are  hurrying  fast  to  the  condition 
of  carrion?  Look  around  us — drunkenness,  sensual 
immorality,  commercial  dishonesty,  senseless  luxury 
amongst  the  rich,  heartless  indifference  to  the  wail  of 
the  poor,  godlessness  over  all  classes  and  ranks  of  the 
community.  Surely,  surely,  if  the  body  politic  be  not 
dead,  it  is  sick  nigh  unto  death.  And  I,  for  my  part, 
have  little  hesitation  in  saying  that  as  far  as  one  can 
see,  European  society  is  driving  as  fast  as  it  can,  with 
its  godlessness  and  immorality,  to  such  another  '  day  of 
the  Lord  '  as  these  words  of  my  text  suggest.  Let  us 
see  to  it  that  we  do  our  little  part  to  be  the  *  salt  of  the 
earth '  which  shall  keep  it  from  rotting,  and  so  drive 
away  the  vultures  of  judgment. 

II.  But  let  me  turn  to  another  point.  We  have  here 
a  law  which  is  to  have  a  far  more  tremendous  accom- 
plishment in  the  future. 

There  have  been  many  comings  of  the  Lord,  many 
days  of  the  Lord,  when,  as  Isaiah  says  in  his  magnificent 
vision  of  one  such,  *  the  loftiness  of  man  has  been 
bowed  down,  and  the  haughtiness  of  man  made  low, 
and  the  Lord  alone  exalted  in  that  day  when  He  arises 
to  shake  terribly  the  earth.'  And  all  these  '  days  of 
the  Lord '  are  prophecies,  and  distinctly  point  to  a 
future  *  day,'  when  the  same  principles  which  have 
been  disclosed  as  working  on  a  small  scale  in  them, 
VOL.  III.  L 


162     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW   [ch.xxiv. 

shall  be  manifested  in  full  embodiment.  These  '  days 
of  the  Lord '  proclaim  '  the  day  of  the  Lord.'  In 
the  prophecies  both  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments 
that  universal  future  judgment  is  seen  glimmering 
through  the  descriptions  of  the  nearer  partial  judg- 
ments. So  interpreters  are  puzzled  to  say  at  what 
point  in  a  prophecy  the  transition  is  made  from  the 
smaller  to  the  greater.  The  prophecies  are  like  the 
diagrams  in  treatises  on  perspective,  in  which  diverg- 
ing lines  are  drawn  from  the  eye,  enclosing  a  square 
or  other  figure,  and  which,  as  they  recede  further 
from  the  point  of  view,  enclose  a  figure,  the  same  in 
shape  but  of  greater  dimensions.  There  is  a  histori- 
cal event  foretold,  the  fall  of  Jerusalem.  It  is  close 
up  to  the  eyes  of  the  disciples,  and  is  comparatively 
small.  Carry  out  the  lines  that  touch  its  corners  and 
define  its  shape,  and  upon  the  far  distant  curtain 
of  the  dim  future  there  is  thrown  a  like  figure  im- 
mensely larger,  the  coming  of  Jesus  Christ  to  judge 
the  world.  All  these  little  premonitions  and  foretastes 
and  anticipatory  specimens  point  onwards  to  the 
assured  termination  of  the  world's  history  in  that 
great  and  solemn  day,  when  all  men  shall  be  gathered 
before  Christ's  throne,  and  He  shall  judge  all  nations 
— judge  you  and  me  amongst  the  rest.  That  future 
judgment  is  distinctly  a  part  of  the  Christian  revela- 
tion. Jesus  Christ  is  to  come  in  bodily  form  as  He 
went  away.  All  men  are  to  be  judged  by  Him.  That 
judgment  is  to  be  the  destruction  of  opposing  forces, 
the  sweeping  away  of  the  carrion  of  moral  evil. 

It  is  therefore  distinctly  a  part  of  the  message  that 
is  to  be  preached  by  us,  under  penalty  of  the  awful 
condemnation  pronounced  on  the  watchman  who  seeth 
the  sword  coming  and  gives  no  warning.     It  is  not 


V.  28]    THE  CARRION  AND  VULTURES   163 

becoming  to  make  such  a  solemn  message  the  oppor- 
tunity for  pictorial  rhetoric,  which  vulgarises  its  great- 
ness and  weakens  its  power.  But  it  is  worse  than  an 
offence  against  taste  ;  it  is  unfaithfulness  to  the  preach- 
ing which  God  bids  us,  treason  to  our  King,  and  cruelty 
to  our  hearers,  to  suppress  the  warning — '  The  day  of 
the  Lord  cometh.'  There  are  many  temptations  to  put 
it  in  the  background.  Many  of  you  do  not  want  that 
kind  of  preaching.  You  want  the  gentle  side  of  divine 
revelation.  You  say  to  us  in  fact,  though  not  in  words, 
'  Prophesy  to  us  smooth  things.  Tell  us  about  the 
infinite  love  which  wraps  all  mankind  in  its  embrace. 
Speak  to  us  of  the  Father  God,  who  "  hateth  nothing 
that  He  hath  made."  Magnify  the  mercy  and  gentle- 
ness and  tenderness  of  Christ.  Do  not  say  anything 
about  that  other  side.  It  is  not  in  accordance  with  the 
tendencies  of  modern  thought.' 

So  much  the  worse,  then,  for  the  tendencies  of  modern 
thought.  I  yield  to  no  man  in  the  ardour  of  my  belief 
that  the  centre  of  all  revelation  is  the  revelation  of  a 
God  of  infinite  love,  but  I  cannot  forget  that  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  '  the  terror  of  the  Lord,'  and  I  dare  not 
disguise  my  conviction  that  no  preaching  sounds  every 
string  in  the  manifold  harp  of  God's  truth,  which  does 
not  strike  that  solemn  note  of  warning  of  judgment  to 
come. 

Such  suppression  is  unfaithfulness.  Surely,  if  we 
preachers  believe  that  tremendous  truth,  we  are  bound 
to  speak.  It  is  cruel  kindness  to  be  silent.  If  a  tra- 
veller is  about  to  plunge  into  some  gloomy  jungle 
infested  by  wild  beasts,  he  is  a  friend  who  sits  by  the 
wayside  to  warn  him  of  his  danger.  Surely  you  would 
not  call  a  signalman  unfeeling  because  he  held  out 
a  red  lamp  when  he  knew  that  just  round  the  curve 


164     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxiv. 

beyond  his  cabin  the  rails  were  up,  and  that  any  train 
that  reached  the  place  would  go  over  in  horrid  ruin. 
Surely  that  preaching  is  not  justly  charged  with  harsh- 
ness which  rings  out  the  wholesome  proclamation  of  a 
day  of  judgment,  when  we  shall  each  give  account  of 
ourselves  to  the  divine-human  Judge. 

Such  suppression  weakens  the  power  of  the  Gospel, 
which  is  the  proclamation  of  deliverance,  not  only  from 
the  power,  but  also  from  the  future  retribution  of 
sin.  In  such  a  maimed  gospel  there  is  but  an  enfeebled 
meaning  given  to  that  idea  of  deliverance.  And  though 
the  thing  that  breaks  the  heart  and  draws  men  to  God 
is  not  terror,  but  love,  the  terror  must  often  be  evoked 
in  order  to  lead  to  love.  It  is  only  *  judgment  to  come ' 
which  will  make  Felix  tremble,  and  though  his  trem- 
bling may  pass  away,  and  he  be  none  the  nearer  the 
kingdom,  there  will  never  any  good  be  done  to  him 
unless  he  does  tremble.  So,  for  all  these  reasons,  all 
faithful  preaching  of  Christ's  Gospel  must  include  the 
proclamation  of  Christ  as  Judge. 

But,  if  I  should  be  unfaithful,  if  I  did  not  preach  this 
truth,  what  shall  we  call  you  if  you  turn  away  from  it  ? 
You  would  not  think  it  a  wise  thing  of  the  engine- 
driver  to  shut  his  eyes  if  the  red  lamp  were  shown,  and 
to  go  along  at  full  speed  and  to  pay  no  heed  to  that  ? 
Do  you  think  it  would  be  right  for  a  Christian  minister 
to  lock  his  lips  and  never  say,  '  There  is  a  judgment  to 
come '  ?  And  do  you  think  it  is  wise  of  you  not  to  think 
of  that,  and  to  shape  your  conduct  accordingly  ? 

Oh,  dear  friends !  I  do  not  doubt  that  the  centre  of 
all  divine  revelation  is  the  love  of  God,  nor  do  I  doubt 
that  incomparably  the  highest  representation  of  the 
power  of  Christ's  Gospel  is  that  it  draws  men  away 
from  the  love  and  the  practice  of  evil,  and  makes  them 


V.28]    THE  CARRION  AND  VULTURES    165 

pure  and  holy.  But  that  is  not  all.  There  is  not  only 
the  practice  and  the  power  of  sin  to  be  fought  against, 
but  there  is  the  penalty  of  sin  to  be  taken  into  account ; 
and  as  sure  as  you  are  living,  and  as  sure  as  there  is 
a  God  above  us,  so  sure  is  it  that  there  is  a  Day  of 
Judgment,  when  '  He  will  judge  the  world  in  right- 
eousness by  the  Man  whom  He  hath  ordained.'  The 
believing  of  that  is  not  salvation,  but  the  belief  of 
that  seems  to  me  to  be  indispensable  for  any  vigorous 
grasp  of  the  delivering  love  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord. 

III.  And  so  the  last  thing  that  I  have  to  say  is  that 
this  is  a  law  which  need  never  touch  you,  nor  you 
know  anything  about  but  by  the  hearing  of  the  ear. 

It  is  told  us  that  we  may  escape  it.  When  Paul 
reasoned  of  righteousness,  and  temperance,  and  judg- 
ment to  come,  his  hearer  trembled  as  he  listened,  but 
there  w^as  an  end.  But  the  true  effect  of  this  message 
is  the  effect  that  Paul  himself  attached  to  it  when  he 
said  in  the  hearing  of  Athenian  wisdom,  '  God  hath 
commanded  all  men  everywhere  to  repent,  because  He 
hath  appointed  a  day  in  the  which  He  will  judge  the 
world  in  righteousness.'  Judgment  faithfully  preached 
is  the  preparation  for  preaching  that  '  there  is  no  con- 
demnation to  them  which  are  in  Christ  Jesus.'  If  we 
trust  in  that  great  Saviour,  we  shall  be  quickened  from 
the  death  of  sin,  and  so  shall  not  be  food  for  the  vul- 
tures of  judgment.  Can  these  corpses  live  ?  Can  this 
eating  putrescence,  which  burrows  its  foul  way  through 
our  souls,  be  sweetened  ?  Is  there  any  antiseptic  for 
it?  Yes,  blessed  be  God,  and  the  hand  whose  touch 
healed  the  leper  will  heal  us,  and  '  our  flesh  will  come 
again  as  the  flesh  of  a  little  child.'  Christ  has  bared  His 
breast  to  the  divine  judgments  against  sin,  and  if  by 


166     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxiv. 

faith  we  shelter  ourselves  in  Him,  we  shall  never  know 
the  terrors  of  that  awful  day. 

Be  sure  that  judgment  to  come  is  no  mere  figure 
dressed  up  to  frighten  children,  nor  the  product  of 
blind  superstition,  but  that  it  is  the  inevitable  issue 
of  the  righteousness  of  the  All-ruling  God.  You  and 
I  and  all  the  sons  of  men  have  to  face  it.  *  Herein 
is  our  love  made  perfect,  that  we  may  have  boldness 
before  Him  in  the  Day  of  Judgment.'  Betake  your- 
selves, as  poor  sinful  creatures  who  know  something 
of  the  corruption  of  your  own  hearts,  to  that  dear 
Christ  who  has  died  on  the  Cross  for  you,  and  all  that 
is  obnoxious  to  the  divine  judgments  will,  by  His  trans- 
forming life  breathed  into  you,  be  taken  out  of  your 
hearts ;  and  when  that  *  day  of  the  Lord '  shall  dawn, 
you,  trusting  in  the  sacrifice  of  Him  who  is  your 
Judge,  will  'have  a  song  as  when  a  holy  solemnity  is 
kept.'  Take  Christ  for  your  Saviour,  and  then,  when 
the  vultures  of  judgment,  with  their  mighty  black 
pinions,  are  wheeling  and  circling  in  the  sky,  ready 
to  pounce  upon  their  prey.  He  will  gather  you  '  as  a  hen 
gathereth  her  chickens  under  her  wings,'  and  beneath 
their  shadow  you  will  be  safe. 


WATCHING  FOR  THE  KING 

•Watch  therefore :  for  ye  know  not  what  hour  your  Lord  doth  come.  43.  But 
know  this,  that  if  the  goodman  of  the  house  had  known  in  what  watch  the  thief 
would  come,  he  would  have  watched,  and  would  not  have  suffered  his  house  to  be 
broken  up.  44.  Therefore  be  ye  also  %eady  :  for  in  such  an  hour  as  ye  think  not 
the  Son  of  Man  cometh.  45.  Who  then  is  a  faithful  and  wise  servant,  whom  his 
lord  hath  made  ruler  over  his  household,  to  give  them  meat  in  due  season  ?  46. 
Blessed  is  that  servant,  whom  his  lord  when  he  cometh  shall  find  so  doing.  47. 
Verily  1  say  unto  you,  That  he  shall  make  him  ruler  over  all  his  goods.  48.  But 
and  if  that  evil  servant  shall  say  in  his  heart.  My  lord  delayeth  his  coming ;  49. 
And  shall  begin  to  smite  his  fellow-servants,  and  to  eat  and  drink  with  the 
drunken ;    50.  The  lord  of  that  servant  shall  come  in  a  day  when  he  looketh  not 


vs.  42-51]    WATCHING  FOR  THE  KING     167 

for  him,  and  in  an  hour  that  he  is  not  aware  of,  51.  And  shall  cut  him  asunder, 
and  appoint  him  his  portion  with  the  hypocrites:  there  shall  be  weeping  and 
gnashing  of  teeth.'— Matt.  xxiv.  42-51. 

The  long  day's  work  was  nearly  done.  Christ  had  left 
the  temple,  never  to  return.  He  took  His  way  across 
the  Mount  of  Olives  to  Bethany,  and  was  stayed  by  the 
disciples'  question  as  to  the  date  of  the  destruction  of 
the  temple,  which  He  had  foretold,  and  of  the  '  end  of 
the  world,'  which  they  attached  to  it.  They  could  not 
fancy  the  world  lasting  without  the  temple !  We  often 
make  a  like  mistake.  So  there,  on  the  hillside,  looking 
across  to  the  city  lying  in  the  sad,  fading  evening  light, 
He  spoke  the  prophecies  of  this  chapter,  which  begin 
with  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  and  insensibly 
merge  into  the  final  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man,  of 
which  that  was  a  prelude  and  a  type.  The  difficulty  of 
accurately  apportioning  the  details  of  this  prophecy  to 
the  future  events  which  fulfil  them  is  common  to  it 
with  all  prophecy,  of  which  it  is  a  characteristic  to 
blend  events  which,  in  the  fulfilment,  are  far  apart. 
From  the  mountain  top,  the  eye  travels  over  great 
stretches  of  country,  but  does  not  see  the  gorges, 
separating  points  which  seem  close  together,  fore- 
shortened by  distance. 

There  are  many  comings  of  the  Son  of  Man  before 
His  final  coming  for  final  judgment,  and  the  nearer 
and  smaller  ones  are  themselves  prophecies.  So,  we 
do  not  need  to  settle  the  chronology  of  unfulfilled 
prophecy  in  order  to  get  the  full  benefit  of  Christ's 
teachings  here.  In  its  moral  and  spiritual  effect  on  us, 
the  uncertainty  of  the  time  of  our  going  to  Christ  is 
nearly  identical  with  the  uncertainty  of  the  time  of 
His  coming  to  us. 

I.  The  command  of  watchfulness  enforced  by  our 
ignorance  of  the  time  of  His  coming  (vs.  42-44).    The 


168     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW   [ch.  xxiv. 

two  commands  at  the  beginning  and  end  of  the  para- 
graph are  not  quite  the  same.  'Be  ye  ready'  is  the 
consequence  of  watchfulness.  Nor  are  the  two  appended 
reasons  the  same ;  for  the  first  command  is  grounded 
on  His  coming  at  a  day  when  *  ye  know  not,'  and  the 
second  on  His  coming  'in  an  hour  that  ye  think  not,' 
that  is  to  say,  it  not  only  is  uncertain,  but  unexpected 
and  surprising.  There  may  also  be  a  difference  worth 
noting  in  the  different  designations  of  Christ  as  '  your 
Lord,'  standing  in  a  special  relation  to  you,  and  as  '  the 
Son  of  Man,'  of  kindred  with  all  men,  and  their  Judge. 
What  is  this  '  watchfulness '  ?  It  is  literally  wakefulness. 
We  are  beset  by  perpetual  temptations  to  sleep,  to 
spiritual  drowsiness  and  torpor.  '  An  opium  sky  rains 
down  soporifics.'  And  without  continual  effort,  our 
perception  of  the  unseen  realities  and  our  alertness 
for  service  will  be  lulled  to  sleep.  The  religion  of 
multitudes  is  a  sleepy  religion.  Further,  it  is  a  vivid 
and  ever-present  conviction  of  His  certain  coming,  and 
consequently  a  habitual  realising  of  the  transience  of 
the  existing  order  of  things,  and  of  the  fast-approach- 
ing realities  of  the  future.  Further,  it  is  the  keeping  of 
our  minds  in  an  attitude  of  expectation  and  desire,  our 
eyes  ever  travelling  to  the  dim  distance  to  mark  the 
far-off  shining  of  His  coming.  What  a  miserable  con- 
trast to  this  is  the  temper  of  professing  Christendom 
as  a  whole  !  It  is  swallowed  up  in  the  present,  wide 
awake  to  interests  and  hopes  belonging  to  this  '  bank 
and  shoal  of  time,'  but  sunk  in  slumber  as  to  that  great 
future,  or,  if  ever  the  thought  of  it  intrudes,  shrinking, 
rather  than  desire,  accompanies  it,  and  it  is  soon 
hustled  out  of  mind. 

Christ  bases  His  command  on  our  ignorance  of  the 
time  of  His  coming.    It  was  no  part  of  His  purpose  in 


vs.  42-51]   WATCHING  FOR  THE  KING     169 

this  prophecy  to  remove  that  ignorance,  and  no  calcula- 
tions of  the  chronology  of  unfulfilled  predictions  have 
pierced  the  darkness.  It  was  His  purpose  that  from 
generation  to  generation  His  servants  should  be  kei)t 
in  the  attitude  of  expectation,  as  of  an  event  that  may 
come  at  any  time  and  must  come  at  some  time.  The 
parallel  uncertainty  of  the  time  of  death,  though  not 
what  is  meant  here,  serves  the  same  moral  end  if  rightly 
used,  and  the  fact  of  death  is  exposed  to  the  same 
danger  of  being  neglected  because  of  the  very  uncer- 
tainty, which  ought  to  be  one  chief  reason  for  keeping 
it  ever  in  view.  Any  future  event,  which  combines 
these  two  things,  absolute  certainty  that  it  will  happen, 
and  utter  uncertainty  when  it  will  happen,  ought  to 
have  power  to  insist  on  being  remembered,  at  least, 
till  it  was  prepared  for,  and  would  have  it,  if  men  were 
not  such  fools.  Christ's  coming  would  be  oftener  con- 
templated if  it  were  more  welcome.  But  what  sort  of 
a  servant  is  he,  who  has  no  glow  of  gladness  at  the 
thought  of  meeting  his  lord  ?  True  Christians  are  '  all 
them  that  have  loved  His  appearing.' 

The  illustrative  example  which  separates  these  two 
commands  is  remarkable.  The  householder's  ignorance 
of  the  time  when  the  thief  would  come  is  the  reason 
why  he  does  not  watch.  He  cannot  keep  awake  all 
night,  and  every  night,  to  be  ready  for  him ;  so  he  has 
to  go  to  sleep,  and  is  robbed.  But  our  ignorance  is  a 
reason  for  wakefulness,  because  we  can  keep  awake  all 
the  night  of  life.  The  householder  watches  to  prevent, 
but  we  to  share  in,  that  for  which  the  watch  is  kept. 
The  figure  of  the  thief  is  chosen  to  illustrate  the  one 
point  of  the  unexpected  stealthy  approach.  But  is 
there  not  deep  truth  in  it,  to  the  effect  that  Christ's 
coming  is  like   that  of   a  robber  to  those  who  are 


170     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxiv. 

asleep,  depriving  them  of  earthly  treasures?  The 
word  rendered  'broken  up'  means  literally  'dug 
through,'  and  points  to  a  clay  or  mud  house,  common 
in  the  East,  which  is  entered,  not  by  bursting  open 
doors  or  windows,  but  by  digging  through  the  wall. 
Death  comes  to  men  sunk  in  spiritual  slumber,  to  strip 
them  of  good  which  they  would  fain  keep,  and  makes 
his  entrance  by  a  breach  in  the  earthly  house  of  this 
tabernacle.  So  St.  Paul,  in  his  earliest  Epistle,  refers 
to  this  saying  (a  proof  of  the  early  diffusion  of  the 
gospel  narrative),  and  says,  '  Ye,  brethren,  are  not  in 
darkness,  that  that  day  should  overtake  you  as  a 
thief.' 

II.  The  picture  and  reward  of  watchfulness.  The 
general  exhortation  to  watch  is  followed  by  a  pair  of 
contrasted  parable  portraits,  primarily  applicable  to 
the  apostles  and  to  those  'set  over  His  household.' 
But  if  we  remember  what  Christ  taught  as  the  con- 
dition of  pre-eminence  in  His  kingdom,  we  shall  not 
confine  their  application  to  an  order. 

'  The  least  flower  with  a  brimming  cup  may  stand, 
'       And  share  its  dew-drop  with  another  near,' 

and  the  most  slenderly  endowed  Christian  has  some 
crumb  of  the  bread  of  life  intrusted  to  him  to  dispense. 
It  is  to  be  observed  that  watchfulness  is  not  mentioned 
in  this  portraiture  of  the  faithful  servant.  It  is  pre- 
supposed as  the  basis  and  motive  of  his  service.  So  we 
learn  the  double  lesson  that  the  attitude  of  continual 
outlook  for  the  Lord  is  needed,  if  we  are  to  discharge 
the  tasks  which  He  has  set  us,  and  that  the  true  effect 
of  watchfulness  is  to  harness  us  to  the  car  of  duty. 
Many  other  motives  actuate  Christian  faithfulness,  but 
all  are  reinforced  by  this,  and  where  it  is  feeble  they 


vs.  42-61]    WATCHING  FOR  THE  KING     171 

are  more  or  less  inoperative.  We  cannot  afford  to  lose 
its  influence.  A  Church  or  a  soul  which  has  ceased  to 
be  looking  for  Him  will  have  let  all  its  tasks  drop  from 
its  drowsy  hands,  and  will  feel  the  power  of  other  con- 
straining motives  of  Christian  service  but  faintly,  as 
in  a  half -dream. 

On  the  other  hand,  true  waiting  for  Him  is  best 
expressed  in  the  quiet  discharge  of  accustomed  and 
appointed  tasks.  The  right  place  for  the  servant  to  be 
found,  when  the  Lord  comes,  is  *  so  doing '  as  He  com- 
mands, however  secular  the  task  may  be.  That  was  a 
wise  judge  who,  when  sudden  darkness  came  on,  and 
people  thought  the  end  of  the  world  was  at  hand,  said, 
'  Bring  lights,  and  let  us  go  on  with  the  case.  We  can- 
not be  better  employed,  if  the  end  has  come,  than  in 
doing  our  duty.'  Flighty  impatience  of  common  tasks 
is  not  watching  for  the  King,  as  Paul  had  to  teach  the 
Thessalonians,  who  were  'shaken'  in  mind  by  the 
thought  of  the  day  of  the  Lord ;  but  the  proper  attitude 
of  the  watchers  is  *  that  ye  study  to  be  quiet,  and  to 
do  your  own  business.' 

Observe,  further,  the  interrogative  form  of  the 
parable.  The  question  is  the  sharp  point  which  gives 
penetrating  power,  and  suggests  Christ's  high  estimate 
of  the  worth  and  difficulty  of  such  conduct,  and  sets  us 
to  ask  for  ourselves,  '  Lord,  is  it  I  ? '  The  servant  is 
'faithful'  inasmuch  as  he  does  his  Lord's  will,  and 
rightly  uses  the  goods  intrusted  to  him,  and  '  wise ' 
inasmuch  as  he  is  'faithful.'  For  a  single-hearted 
devotion  to  Christ  is  the  parent  of  insight  into  duty, 
and  the  best  guide  to  conduct ;  and  whoever  seeks  only 
to  be  true  to  his  Lord  in  the  use  of  his  gifts  and  posses- 
sions, will  not  lack  prudence  to  guide  him  in  giving  to 
each  his  food,  and  that  in  due  season.    The  two  charac- 


172     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxiv. 

teristics  are  connected  in  another  way  also ;  for,  if  the 
outcome  of  faithfulness  be  taken  into  account,  its 
wisdom  is  plain,  and  he  who  has  been  faithful  even 
unto  death  will  be  seen  to  have  been  wise  though  he 
gave  up  all,  when  the  crown  of  eternal  life  sparkles  on 
his  forehead.  Such  faithfulness  and  wisdom  (which 
are  at  bottom  but  two  names  for  one  course  of  con- 
duct) find  their  motive  in  that  watchfulness,  which 
works  as  ever  in  the  great  Taskmaster's  eye,  and  as 
ever  keeping  in  view  His  coming,  and  the  rendering 
of  account  to  Him. 

The  reward  of  the  faithful  servant  is  stated  in 
language  similar  to  that  of  the  parable  of  the  talents. 
Faithfulness  in  a  narrower  sphere  leads  to  a  wider. 
The  reward  for  true  work  is  more  work,  of  nobler 
sort  and  on  a  grander  scale.  That  is  true  for  earth 
and  for  heaven.  If  we  do  His  will  here,  we  shall  one 
day  exchange  the  subordinate  place  of  the  steward 
for  the  authority  of  the  ruler,  and  the  toil  of  the  ser- 
vant for  the  'joy  of  the  Lord.'  The  soul  that  is  joined 
to  Christ  and  is  one  in  will  with  Him  has  all  things 
for  its  servants;  and  he  who  uses  all  things  for  his 
own  and  his  brethren's  highest  good  is  lord  of  them 
all,  while  he  walks  amid  the  shadows  of  time,  and 
will  be  lifted  to  loftier  dominion  over  a  grander  world 
when  he  passes  hence. 

III.  The  picture  and  doom  of  the  un watchful  servant. 
This  portrait  presupposes  that  a  long  period  will  elapse 
before  Christ  comes.  The  secret  thought  of  the  evil 
servant  is  the  thought  of  a  time  far  down  the  ages 
from  the  moment  of  our  Lord's  speaking.  It  would 
take  centuries  for  such  a  temper  to  be  developed  in 
the  Church.  What  is  the  temper  ?  A  secret  dismissal 
of  the  anticipation  of  the  Lord's  return,  and  that  not 


vs.  42-51]    WATCHING  FOR  THE  KING     173 

merely  because  He  has  been  long  in  coming,  but  as  think- 
ing that  He  has  broken  His  word,  and  has  not  come 
when  He  said  that  He  would.  This  unspoken  dimming 
over  of  the  expectation  and  unconfessed  doubt  of  the 
firmness  of  the  promise,  is  the  natural  product  of  the 
long  time  of  apparent  delay  which  the  Church  has  had 
to  encounter.  It  will  cloud  and  depress  the  religion  of 
later  ages,  unless  there  be  constant  effort  to  resist  the 
tendency  and  to  keep  awake.  The  first  generations 
were  all  aflame  with  the  glad  hope  •  Maranatha ' — '  The 
Lord  is  at  hand.'  Their  successors  gradually  lost  that 
keenness  of  expectation,  and  at  most  cried,  '  Will  not 
He  come  soon  ? '  Their  successors  saw  the  starry  hope 
through  thickening  mists  of  years  ;  and  now  it  scarcely 
shines  for  many,  or  at  least  is  but  a  dim  point,  when  it 
should  blaze  as  a  sun. 

He  was  an  *  evil '  servant  who  said  so  in  his  heart. 
He  was  evil  because  he  said  it,  and  he  said  it  because 
he  was  evil ;  for  the  yielding  to  sin  and  the  withdrawal 
of  love  from  Jesus  dim  the  desire  for  His  coming,  and 
make  the  whisper  that  He  delays,  a  hope ;  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  hope  that  He  delays  helps  to  open 
the  sluices,  and  let  sin  flood  the  life.  So  an  outburst 
of  cruel  masterfulness  and  of  riotous  sensuality  is  the 
consequence  of  the  dimmed  expectation.  There  would 
have  been  no  usurpation  of  authority  over  Christ's 
heritage  by  priest  or  pope,  or  any  other,  if  that  hope 
had  not  become  faint.  If  professing  Christians  lived 
with  the  great  white  throne  and  the  heavens  and 
earth  fleeing  away  before  Him  that  sits  on  it,  ever 
burning  before  their  inward  eye,  how  could  they 
wallow  amid  the  mire  of  animal  indulgence?  The 
corruptions  of  the  Church,  especially  of  its  official 
members,  are  traced  with  sad  and  prescient  hand  in 


174    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxiv. 

these  foreboding  words,  which  are  none  the  less  a 
prophecy  because  cast  by  His  forbearing  gentleness  into 
the  milder  form  of  a  supposition. 

The  dreadful  doom  of  the  unwatchful  servant  is 
couched  in  terms  of  awful  severity.  The  cruel  punish- 
ment of  sawing  asunder,  which,  tradition  says,  was 
suffered  by  Isaiah  and  was  not  unfamiliar  in  old  times, 
is  his.  What  concealed  terror  of  retribution  it  signifies 
we  do  not  know.  Perhaps  it  points  to  a  fate  in  which 
a  man  shall  be,  as  it  were,  parted  into  two,  each  at 
enmity  with  the  other.  Perhaps  it  implies  a  retribution 
in  kind  for  his  sin,  which  consisted,  as  the  next  clause 
implies,  in  hypocrisy,  which  is  the  sundering  in  twain 
of  inward  conviction  and  practice,  and  is  to  be  avenged 
by  a  like  but  worse  rending  apart  of  conscience  and  will. 
At  all  events,  it  shadows  a  fearful  retribution,  which  is 
not  extinction,  inasmuch  as,  in  the  next  clause,  we  read 
that  his  portion — his  lot,  or  that  condition  which  belongs 
to  him  by  virtue  of  his  character — is  with  'the  hypocrites.' 
He  was  one  of  them,  because,  while  he  said  '  my  lord,' 
he  had  ceased  to  love  and  obey,  having  ceased  to  desire 
and  expect ;  and  therefore  whatever  is  their  fate  shall 
be  his,  even  to  the  '  dividing  asunder  of  soul  and  spirit,' 
and  setting  eternal  discord  among  the  thoughts  and 
intents  of  the  heart.  That  is  not  the  punishment  of 
unwatchfulness,  but  of  what  unwatchfulness  leads  to, 
if  una  wakened.  Let  these  words  of  the  King  ring  an 
alarum  for  us  all,  and  rouse  our  sleepy  souls  to  watch, 
as  becomes  the  children  of  the  day. 


THE  WAITING  MAIDENS 

'  Then  shall  the  kingdom  of  heaven  be  likened  unto  ten  virgins,  which  took  their 
lamps,  and  went  forth  to  meet  the  bridegroom.  2.  And  five  of  them  were  wise,  and 
five  were  foolish.  3.  They  that  were  foolish  took  their  lamps,  and  took  no  oil  with 
them  :  4.  But  the  wise  took  oil  in  their  vessels  with  their  lamps.  5.  While  the 
bridegroom  tarried,  they  all  slumbered  and  slept.  6.  And  at  midnight  there  was  a 
cry  made.  Behold,  the  bridegroom  cometh ;  go  ye  out  to  meet  him.  7.  Then  all 
those  virgins  arose,  and  trimmed  their  lamps.  8.  And  the  foolish  said  unto  the 
wise,  Give  us  of  your  oil ;  for  our  lamps  are  gone  out.  9.  But  the  wise  answered, 
saying,  Not  so ;  lest  there  be  not  enough  for  us  and  you  :  but  go  ye  rather  to  them 
that  sell,  and  buy  for  yourselves.  10.  And  while  they  went  to  buy,  the  bridegroom 
came ;  and  they  that  were  ready  went  in  with  him  to  the  marriage :  and  the  door 
was  shut.  11.  Afterward  came  also  the  other  virgins,  saying.  Lord,  Lord,  open  to  us. 
12.  But  he  answered  and  said.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  I  know  you  not.  13.  Watch 
therefore ;  for  ye  know  neither  the  day  nor  the  hour  wherein  the  Son  of  Man 
cometh.'— Matt.  xxv.  1-13. 

We  shall  best  understand  this  beautiful  but  difficult 
parable  if  we  look  on  to  its  close.  Our  Lord  appends 
to  it  the  refrain  of  all  this  context,  the  exhortation 
to  watch,  based  upon  our  ignorance  of  the  time  of  His 
coming.  But  as  in  the  former  little  parable  of  the  wise 
servant  it  was  his  faithful,  wise  dispensing  of  his  lord's 
goods,  and  not  his  watchfulness,  which  was  the  point 
of  the  eulogium  passed  on  him,  so  here  it  is  the  readi- 
ness of  the  wise  virgins  to  take  their  places  in  the 
wedding  march  which  is  commended.  That  readiness 
consists  in  their  having  their  lamps  burning  and  their  '- 
oil  in  store.  This,  then,  is  the  main  thing  in  the 
parable.  It  is  an  exhibition,  under  another  aspect,  of 
what  constitutes  fitness  for  entrance  into  the  festal 
chamber  of  the  bridegroom,  which  had  just  been  set 
forth  as  consisting  in  faithful  stewardship.  Here  it  is 
presented  as  being  the  possession  of  lamp  and  oil. 

I.  The  first  consideration,  then,  must  be,  What  is  the 
meaning  of  these  emblems  ?  A  great  deal  of  fine-spun 
ingenuity  has  been  expended  on  subordinate  points  in 
the  parable,  such  as  the  significance  of  the  number  of 

m 


i 


176     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xxv. 

maidens,  the  conclusions  from  the  equal  division  into 
wise  and  foolish,  the  place  from  which  they  came  to 
meet  the  bridegroom,  the  point  in  the  marriage  proces- 
sion where  they  are  supposed  to  join  it,  whether  it  was 
at  going  to  fetch  the  bride,  or  at  coming  back  with  her ; 
whether  the  feast  is  held  in  her  house,  or  in  his,  and  so 
on.  But  all  these  are  unimportant  questions,  and  as 
Christ  has  left  them  in  the  background,  we  only  destroy 
the  perspective  by  dragging  them  into  the  front.  In  no 
parable  is  it  more  important  than  in  this  to  restrain 
the  temptation  to  run  out  analogies  into  their  last 
results.  The  remembrance  that  the  virgins,  as  the 
emblem  of  the  whole  body  of  the  visible  Church,  are 
the  same  as  the  bride,  w^ho  does  not  appear  in  the 
parable,  might  warn  against  such  an  error.  They  were 
ten,  as  being  the  usual  number  for  such  a  company, 
or  as  being  the  round  number  naturally  employed 
when  definiteness  was  not  sought.  They  were  divided 
equally,  not  because  our  Lord  desired  to  tell,  but  be- 
cause He  wished  to  leave  unnoticed,  the  numerical  pro- 
portion of  the  two  classes.  One  set  are  '  wise '  and  the 
other  '  foolish,'  because  He  wishes  to  show  not  only  the 
sin,  but  the  absurdity,  of  unreadiness,  and  to  teach 
us  that  true  wisdom  is  not  of  the  head  only,  but  far 
more  of  the  heart.  The  conduct  of  the  two  groups  of 
maidens  is  looked  at  from  the  prudent  and  common- 
sense  standpoint,  and  the  provident  action  of  the  one 
sets  in  relief  the  reckless  stupidity  of  the  other. 

There  have  been  many  opinions  as  to  the  meaning  of 
the  lamps  and  the  oil,  which  it  is  needless  to  repeat. 
Surely  the  analogy  of  scriptural  symbolism  is  our  best 
guide.  If  we  follow  it,  we  get  a  meaning  which  per- 
fectly suits  the  emblems  and  the  whole  parable.  In  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount,  our  Lord  uses  the  same  figure 


vs.  1-13]    THE  WAITING  MAIDENS  177 

of  the  lamp,  and  explains  it:    'Let  your  light  shine 
before  men,  that  they  may  see  your  good  works.' 

II.  Note  the  sleep  of  all  the  virgins.  No  blame  is  \ 
hinted  on  account  of  it.  It  is  not  inconsistent  v^^ith  the 
wisdom  of  the  wise,  nor  does  it  interfere  with  their 
readiness  to  meet  the  bridegroom.  It  is,  then,  such  a 
sleep  as  is  compatible  with  watching.  Our  Lord's  in- 
troduction of  this  point  is  an  example  of  His  merciful 
allowance  for  our  weakness.  There  must  be  a  certain 
slackening  of  the  tension  of  expectation  when  the 
bridegroom  tarries.  Centuries  of  delay  cannot  but 
modify  the  attitude  of  the  waiting  Church,  and  Jesus 
here  implies  that  there  will  be  a  long  stretch  of  time 
before  His  advent,  during  which  all  His  people  will  feel 
the  natural  effect  of  the  deferring  of  hope.  But  the 
sleep  which  He  permits,  unblamed,  is  light,  and  such 
as  one  takes  by  snatches  when  waiting  to  be  called. 
He  does  not  ask  us  always  to  be  on  tiptoe  of  expecta- 
tion, nor  to  refuse  the  teaching  of  experience;  but 
counts  that  we  have  watched  aright,  if  we  wake  from 
our  light  slumbers  when  the  cry  is  heard,  and  have 
our  lamps  lit,  ready  for  the  procession. 

III.  Then  comes  the  midnight  cry  and  the  waking  of 
the  maidens.  The  hour,  '  of  night's  black  arch  the 
keystone,'  suggests  the  unexpectedness  of  His  coming ;  "^ 
the  loudness  of  the  cry,  its  all-awaking  effect;  the 
broken  words  of  the  true  reading,  *  Behold  the  bride- 
groom ! '  the  closeness  on  the  heels  of  the  heralds  with 
which  the  procession  flashes  through  the  darkness. 
The  virgins  had  'gone  forth  to  meet  him'  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  parable,  but  the  going  forth  to  which 
they  are  now  summoned  is  not  the  same.  The 
Christian  soul  goes  forth  once  when,  at  the  begin- 
ning of   its  Christian  life,  it  forsakes  the  world  to 

VOL.  III.  M 


178     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxv. 

wait  for  and  on  Christ,  and  again,  when  it  leaves  the 
world  to  pass  with  Him  into  the  banquet.  Life  is  the 
slumber  from  which  some  are  awaked  by  the  voice  of 
death,  and  some  who  '  remain '  shall  be  awaked  by  the 
trumpet  of  judgment.  There  is  no  interval  between 
the  cry  and  the  appearance  of  the  bridegroom ;  only  a 
moment  to  rouse  themselves,  to  look  to  their  lamps, 
and  to  speak  the  hurried  words  of  the  foolish  and  the 
answer  of  the  wise,  and  then  the  procession  is  upon 
them.  It  is  all  done  as  in  a  flash,  '  in  a  moment,  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye.'  This  impression  of  swiftness, 
which  leaves  no  time  for  delayed  preparation,  is  the 
uniform  impression  conveyed  by  all  the  Scripture 
references  to  the  coming  of  the  Lord.  The  swoop  of 
the  eagle,  the  fierce  blaze  of  lightning  from  one  side  of 
the  sky  to  the  other,  the  bursting  of  the  flood,  that 
morning's  work  at  Sodom,  not  begun  till  dawn  and 
finished  before  the  *  sun  was  risen  on  the  earth,'  are  its 
types.  Foolish  indeed  to  postpone  preparation  till  that 
moment  when  cry  and  coming  are  simultaneous,  like 
lightning  and  thunder  right  overhead ! 

The  foolish  virgins'  imploring  request  and  its  answer 
are  not  to  be  pressed,  as  if  they  meant  more  than  to  set 
forth  the  hopelessness  of  then  attempting  to  procure 
the  wanting  oil,  and  especially  the  hopelessness  of 
attempting  to  get  it  from  one's  fellows.  There  is  a 
world  of  suppressed  terror  and  surprise  in  that  cry, 
*  Our  lamps  are  going  out.'  Note  that  they  burned  till 
the  bridegroom  came,  and  then,  like  the  magic  lamps 
in  old  legends,  at  his  approach  shivered  into  darkness. 
Is  not  that  true  of  the  formal,  outward  religion,  which 
survives  everything  but  contact  with  His  all-seeing 
eye  and  perfect  judgment  ?  These  foolish  maidens 
were  as  much  astonished  as  alarmed  at  seeing  their 


vs.  1-13]     THE  WAITING  MAIDENS  179 

lights  flicker  down  to  extinction ;  and  it  is  possible 
for  professing  Christians  to  live  a  lifetime,  and  never 
to  be  found  out  either  by  themselves  or  by  anybody 
else.  But  if  there  has  been  no  oil  in  the  lamp,  it 
will  be  quenched  when  He  appears.  The  atmosphere 
that  surrounds  His  throne  acts  like  oxygen  on  the 
oil -fed  flame,  and  like  carbonic  acid  gas  on  the 
other. 

The  answer  of  the  wise  is  not  selfishness.  It  is  not 
from  our  fellows,  however  bright  their  lamps,  that 
we  can  ever  get  that  inward  grace.  None  of  them 
has  more  than  suffices  for  his  own  needs,  nor  can  any 
give  it  to  another.  It  may  be  bought,  on  the  same 
terms  as  the  pearl  of  great  price  was  bought,  '  without 
money ' ;  but  the  market  is  closed,  as  on  a  holiday,  on 
the  day  of  the  king's  son's  marriage.  That  is  not 
touched  upon  here,  except  in  so  far  as  it  is  hinted 
at  in  the  absence  of  the  foolish  when  he  enters  the 
banqueting  chamber,  and  in  their  fruitless  prayer. 
They  had  no  time  to  get  the  oil  befora  he  came,  and 
they  had  not  got  it  when  they  returned.  The  lesson  is 
plain.  We  can  only  get  the  new  life  of  the  Spirit, 
which  will  make  our  lives  a  light,  from  God;  and  we 
can  get  it  now,  not  then. 

IV.  We  see  the  wise  virgins  within  and  the  foolish 
without.  They  are,  indeed,  no  longer  designated  by 
these  adjectives,  but  as  *  ready '  and  *  the  others ' ;  for 
preparedness  is  fitness,  and  they  who  are  found  of  Him 
in  possession  of  the  outward  righteousness  and  of  its 
inward  source.  His  own  divine  life  in  them,  are  pre- 
pared. To  such  the  gates  of  the  festal  chamber  fly 
open.  In  that  day,  place  is  the  outcome  of  character, 
and  it  is  equally  impossible  for  the  'ready'  to  be  shut 
out,  and  for  '  the  others '  to  go  in. 


180     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxv. 

'When  the  bridegroom  with  his  feastful  friends 
passes  to  bliss  at  the  mid  hour  of  night,'  they  who  have 
'filled  their  odorous  lamps  with  deeds  of  light'  have 
surely  '  gained  their  entrance.'  There  is  silence  as  to 
the  unspeakable  joys  of  the  wedding  feast.  Some  faint 
sounds  of  music  and  dancing,  some  gleams  from  the 
lighted  windows,  find  their  way  out;  but  the  closed 
door  keeps  its  secret,  and  only  the  guests  know  the 
gladness. 
^V  That  closed  door  means  security,  perpetuity,  untold 
blessedness,  but  it  means  exclusion  too.  The  piteous 
reiterated  call  of  the  shut-out  maidens,  roused  too  late, 
and  so  suddenly,  from  songs  and  laughter  to  vain  cries, 
evokes  a  stern  answer,  through  which  shines  the  awful 
reality  veiled  in  the  parable.  We  do  not  need  to  regard 
the  prayer  for  entrance,  and  its  refusal,  as  conveying 
more  than  the  fruitlessness  of  wishes  for  entrance 
then,  when  unaccompanied  with  fitness  to  enter.  Such 
desire  as  is  expressed  in  this  passionate  beating  at  the 
closed  door,  with  hoarse  entreaties,  is  not  fitness.  If  it 
were,  the  door  would  open ;  and  the  reason  why  it  does 
not  lies  in  the  bridegroom's  awful  answer,  '  I  know  you 
not.'  The  absence  of  the  qualification  prevents  his 
recognising  them  as  his.  Surely  the  unalleviated  dark- 
ness of  a  hopeless  exclusion  settles  down  on  these  sad 
five,  standing,  huddled  together,  at  the  door,  with  the 
extinguished  lamps  hanging  in  their  despairing  hands. 
*^  '  Too  late,  too  late,  ye  cannot  enter  now.'  The  wedding 
bell  has  become  a  funeral  knell.  They  were  not  the 
enemies  of  the  bridegroom,  they  thought  themselves 
his  friends.  They  let  life  ebb  without  securing  the 
one  thing  needful,  and  the  neglect  was  irremediable. 
There  is  a  tragedy  underlying  many  a  life  of  outward 
religiousness  and  inward  emptiness,  and  a  dreadful 


VB.  1-13]  DYING  LAMPS  181 

discovery  will  flare  in  upon  such,  when  they  have  to 
say  to  themselves, 

•This  might  have  been  once, 

And  we  missed  it,  lost  it  for  ever,' 


DYING  LAMPS 

*  Our  lamps  are  gone  out.'— Matt.  xxv.  8. 

This  is  one  of  the  many  cases  in  which  the  Revised 
Version,  by  accuracy  of  rendering  the  tense  of  a  verb, 
gives  a  much  more  striking  as  well  as  correct  repro- 
duction of  the  original  than  the  Authorised  Version 
does.  The  former  reads  'going  out,'  instead  of  'gone 
out,'  a  rendering  which  the  Old  Version  has,  unfortun- 
ately, relegated  to  the  margin.  It  is  clearly  to  be  pre- 
ferred, not  only  because  it  more  correctly  represents 
the  Greek,  but  because  it  sets  before  us  a  more  solemn 
and  impressive  picture  of  the  precise  time  at  which 
the  terrible  discovery  was  made  by  the  foolish  five. 
They  woke  from  their  sleep,  and  hastily  trimmed  their 
lamps.  These  burned  brightly  for  a  moment,  and  then 
began  to  flicker  and  die  down.  The  extinction  of  their 
light  was  not  the  act  of  a  moment,  but  was  a  gradual 
process,  which  had  advanced  in  some  degree  before  it 
attracted  the  attention  of  the  bearers  of  the  lamps.  At 
last  it  roused  the  half -sleeping  five  into  startled,  wide- 
awake consciousness.  There  is  a  tone  of  alarm  and 
fear  in  their  sudden  exclamation,  '  Our  lamps  are 
going  out.'  They  see  now  the  catastrophe  that 
threatens,  and  understand  that  the  only  means  of 
averting  it  is  to  replenish  the  empty  oil- vessels  before 
the  flame  has  quite  expired.    But  their  knowledge  and 


182     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.  xxv. 

their  dread  were  alike  too  late,  and,  as  they  went  on 
their  hopeless  search  for  some  one  to  give  them  what 
they  once  might  have  had  in  abundance,  the  last  faint 
flicker  ceased,  and  they  had  to  grope  their  way  in  the 
dark,  with  their  lightless  lamps  hanging  useless  in  their 
slack  hands,  while  far  off  the  torches  of  the  bridal 
procession,  in  which  they  might  have  had  a  part, 
flashed  through  the  night.  We  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  tragical  issue  of  the  process  of  extinction ; 
but  solemn  lessons  of  universal  application  gather 
round  the  picture  of  that  process,  as  represented  in 
our  text,  and  to  these  we  turn  now. 

I.  We  must  settle  the  meaning  of  the  oil  and  the 
lamps. 

The  Old  Testament  symbolism  is  our  best  guide  as 
to  the  significance  of  the  oil.  Throughout  it,  oil 
symbolises  the  divine  influences  that  come  down  on 
men  appointed  by  God  to  their  several  functions,  and 
which  are  there  traced  to  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord.  So 
the  priests  were  set  apart  by  unction  with  the  holy  oil ; 
so  Samuel  poured  oil  on  the  black  locks  of  Saul.  So, 
too,  the  very  name  Messiah  means  '  anointed,'  and  the 
great  prophecy,  which  Jesus  claimed  for  His  own  in  His 
first  sermon  in  the  synagogue  at  Nazareth,  put  into 
the  Messiah's  lips  the  declaration,  'The  Spirit  of  the 
Lord  is  upon  Me,  because  He  hath  anointed  Me.'  But 
there  are  Old  Testament  symbols  which  bear  still  more 
closely  on  the  emblems  of  our  text.  Zechariah  saw  in 
vision  a  golden  lamp-stand  with  seven  lamps,  and  on 
either  side  of  it  an  olive  tree,  from  which  oil  flowed 
through  golden  pipes  to  feed  the  flame.  The  inter- 
pretation of  the  vision  was  given  by  the  'angel  that 
talked  with '  the  prophet  as  being,  '  not  by  might  nor 
by  power,  but  by  My  Spirit,  saith  the  Lord.* 


V.8]  DYING  LAMPS  183 

So,  then,  we  follow  the  plainly  marked  road  and 
Scripture  use  of  a  symbol  when  we  take  the  oil  in  this 
parable  to  be  that  which  every  listener  to  Jesus,  who 
was  instructed  in  the  old  things  which  he  was  bringing 
forth  with  new  emphasis  from  the  ancient  treasure- 
house  of  the  word  of  God,  would  take  it  to  be — namely, 
the  sum  of  the  influences  from  Heaven  which  were 
bestowed  through  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord. 

Such  being  the  meaning  of  the  oil,  what  was  meant 
by  the  lamp?  We  have  no  intention  of  discussing 
here  the  many  varying  interpretations  which  have 
been  given  to  the  symbol.  To  do  so  would  lead  us  too 
far  afield.  We  can  only  say  that  the  interpretation  of 
the  oil  as  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  necessarily 
involves  the  explanation  of  the  lamp  which  is  fed  by  it, 
as  being  the  spiritual  life  of  the  individual,  which 
is  nourished  and  made  visible  to  the  world  as  light, 
by  the  continual  communication  from  God  of  these 
hallowing  influences.  Turning  again  to  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, I  need  only  remind  you  of  the  great  seven- 
branched  lamp  which  stood  in  the  Tabernacle,  and 
afterwards  in  the  Temple.  It  was  the  symbol  of  the 
collective  Israel,  as  recipient  of  divine  influences,  and 
thereby  made  the  light  of  a  dark  world.  Its  rays 
streamed  out  over  the  desert  first,  and  afterwards 
shone  from  the  mountain  of  the  Lord's  house,  beaming 
illumination  and  invitation  to  those  who  sat  in  dark- 
ness to  behold  the  great  light,  and  to  walk  in  the  light 
of  the  Lord.  Zechariah's  emblem  was  based  on  the 
Temple  lamp.  In  accordance  with  the  greater  promi- 
nence given  by  the  Old  Testament  to  national  than 
to  individual  religion,  both  of  these  represented  the 
people  as  a  whole.  In  accordance  with  the  more 
advanced   individualism  of  the  New  Testament,  our 


184     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.  xxv. 

text  so  far  varies  the  application  of  the  emblem,  that 
each  of  the  ten  virgins  who,  as  a  whole,  stand  for  the 
collective  professing  Church,  has  her  own  lamp.  But 
that  is  the  only  difference  between  the  Old  and  the 
New  Testament  uses  of  the  symbol. 

I  need  not  remind  you  how  the  same  metaphor  re- 
curs frequently  in  the  teachings  of  our  Lord  and  of  the 
Apostles.  Sometimes  the  Old  Testament  collective  point 
of  view  is  maintained,  as  in  our  Lord's  saying  in  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount,  '  Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world,' 
but  more  frequently,  the  characteristic  individualis- 
ing of  the  figure  prevails,  and  we  read  of  Christians 
shining  '  as  lights  in  the  world,'  and  each  holding 
forth,  as  a  lamp  does  its  light,  '  the  word  of  life.'  Nor 
must  we  forget  the  climax  of  the  uses  of  this  emblem, 
in  the  vision  of  the  Apocalypse,  where  John  once  more 
saw  the  Lord,  on  whose  bosom  his  head  had  so  often 
peacefully  lain,  'walking  in  the  midst  of  the  seven 
golden  candlesticks.'  There,  again,  the  collective  rather 
than  the  individual  bearing  of  the  figure  is  prominent, 
but  with  significant  differences  from  the  older  use  of 
it.  In  Judaism  there  was  a  formal,  outward  unity, 
represented  by  the  one  lamp  with  its  manifold  lights, 
all  welded  together  on  the  golden  stem ;  but  the 
churches  of  Asia  Minor  were  distinct  organisations, 
and  their  oneness  came,  not  from  outward  union  of  a 
mechanical  kind,  but  from  the  presence  in  their  midst 
of  the  Son  of  God. 

The  sum  of  all  this  course  of  thought  is  that  the 
lamp  is  the  Christian  life  of  the  individual  sustained 
by  the  communication  of  the  influences  of  God's  Holy 
Spirit. 

II.  We  note  next  the  gradual  dying  out  of  the  light, 
f  Our  lamps  are  going  out.' 


V.  8]  DYING  LAMPS  185 

All  spiritual  emotions  and  vitality,  like  every  other 
kind  of  emotion  and  vitality,  die  unless  nourished.  Let 
no  theological  difficulties  about  '  the  final  perseverance 
of  the  saints,'  or  *  the  indef  easibleness  of  grace,'  and  the 
impossibility  of  slaying  the  divine  life  that  has  once 
been  given  to  a  man,  come  in  the  V7ay  of  letting  this 
parable  have  its  full,  solemn  weight.  These  foolish 
virgins  had  oil  and  had  light,  the  oil  failed  by  their 
fault,  and  so  the  light  went  out,  and  they  were 
startled,  when  they  awoke  from  their  slumber,  to  see 
bow,  instead  of  brilliant  flame,  there  was  smoking 
wick. 

Dear  brethren,  let  us  take  the  lesson.  There  is 
nothing  in  our  religious  emotions  which  has  any 
guarantee  of  perpetuity  in  it,  except  upon  certain  con- 
ditions. We  may  live,  and  our  life  may  ebb.  We  may 
trust,  and  our  trust  may  tremble  into  unbelief.  We 
may  obey,  and  our  obedience  may  be  broken  by  the 
mutinous  risings  of  self-will.  We  may  walk  in  the 
*  paths  of  righteousness,'  and  our  feet  may  falter  and 
turn  aside.  There  is  certainty  of  the  dying  out  of  all 
communicated  life,  unless  the  channel  of  communica- 
tion with  the  life  from  which  it  was  first  kindled,  be 
kept  constantly  clear.  The  lamp  may  be  '  a  burning 
and  a  shining  light,'  or,  more  accurately  translating 
the  phrase  of  our  Lord,  '  a  light  kindled  and '  (there- 
fore) '  shining,'  but  it  will  be  light  '  for  a  season '  only, 
unless  it  is  fed  from  that  from  which  it  was  first  set 
alight ;  and  that  is  from  God  Himself. 

'  Our  lamps  are  going  out,' — a  slow  process  that ! 
The  flame  does  not  all  die  into  darkness  in  a  minute. 
There  are  stages  in  its  death.  The  white  portion  of 
the  flame  becomes  smaller  and  the  blue  part  extends ; 
then  the  flame  flickers,  and  finally  shudders  itself,  as 


186     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.  xxv. 

it  were,  off  the  wick;  then  nothing  remains  but  a 
charred  red  line  along  the  top  ;  then  that  line  breaks  up 
into  little  points,  and  one  after  another  these  twinkle 
out,  and  then  all  is  black,  and  the  lamp  is  gone  out. 
And  so,  slowly,  like  the  ebbing  away  of  the  tide,  like 
the  reluctant,  long-protracted  dying  of  summer  days, 
like  the  dropping  of  the  blood  from  some  fatal  wound, 
by  degrees  the  process  of  extinction  creeps,  creeps, 
creeps  on,  and  the  lamp  that  was  going  is  finally  gone 
out. 

III.  Again,  we  note  that  extinction  is  brought  about 
simply  by  doing  nothing. 

These  five  foolish  virgins  did  not  stray  away  into 
any  forbidden  paths.  No  positive  sin  is  alleged  against 
them.  They  were  simply  asleep.  The  other  five  were 
asleep  too.  I  do  not  need  to  enter,  here  and  now,  into 
the  whole  interpretation  of  the  parable,  or  there  might 
be  much  to  say  about  the  difference  between  these  two 
kinds  of  sleep.  But  what  I  wish  to  notice  is  that  it  was 
nothing  except  negligence  darkening  into  drowsiness, 
which  caused  the  dying  out  of  the  light. 

It  was  not  of  set  purpose  that  the  foolish  five  took  no 
oil  with  them.  They  merely  neglected  to  do  so,  not 
having  the  wit  to  look  ahead  and  provide  against  the 
contingency  of  a  long  time  of  waiting  for  the  bride- 
groom. Their  negligence  was  the  result,  not  of  de- 
liberate wish  to  let  their  lights  go  out,  but  of  their 
heedlessness ;  and  because  of  that  negligence  they 
earned  the  name  of  'foolish.'  If  we  do  not  look  for- 
ward, and  prepare  for  possible  drains  on  our  powers, 
we  shall  deserve  the  same  adjective.  If  we  do  not  lay 
in  stores  for  future  use,  we  may  be  sent  to  school  to 
the  harvesting  ant  and  the  bee.  That  lesson  applies  to 
all  departments  of  life  ;  but  it  is  eminently  applicable 


V.8]  DYING  LAMPS  187 

to  the  spiritual  life,  which  is  sustained  only  by  com- 
munications from  the  Spirit  of  God.  For  these  com- 
munications will  be  imperceptibly  lessened,  and  may 
be  altogether  intercepted,  unless  diligent  attention  is 
given  to  keep  open  the  channels  by  which  they  enter 
the  spirit.  If  the  pipes  are  not  looked  to,  they  will  be 
choked  by  masses  of  matted  trifles,  through  which  the 
*  rivers  of  living  water,'  which  Christ  took  as  a  symbol 
of  the  Spirit's  influences,  cannot  force  a  way. 

The  thing  that  makes  shipwreck  of  the  faith  of  most 
professing  Christians  that  do  come  to  grief  is  no  positive 
wickedness,  no  conduct  which  would  be  branded  as  sin 
by  the  Christian  conscience  or  even  by  ordinary  people, 
but  simply  torpor.  If  the  water  in  a  pond  is  never 
stirred,  it  is  sure  to  stagnate,  and  green  scum  to  spread 
over  it,  and  a  foul  smell  to  rise  from  it.  A  Christian 
man  has  only  to  do  what  I  am  afraid  a  good  many  of 
us  are  in  great  danger  of  doing — that  is,  nothing — in 
order  to  ensure  that  his  lamp  shall  go  out. 

Do  you  try  to  keep  yours  alight  ?  There  is  only  one 
way  to  do  it — that  is  to  go  to  Christ  and  get  Him  to 
pour  His  sweetness  and  His  power  into  our  open  hearts. 
When  one  of  the  old  patriarchs  had  committed  a  great 
sin,  and  had  unbelievingly  twitched  his  hand  out  of  God's 
hand,  and  gone  away  down  into  Egypt  to  help  himself 
instead  of  trusting  to  God,  he  was  commanded,  on  his 
return  to  Palestine,  to  go  to  the  place  where  he  dwelt 
at  the  first,  and  begin  again,  at  the  point  where  he 
began  when  he  first  entered  the  land.  Which  being 
translated  is  just  this — the  only  way  to  keep  our  spirits 
vital  and  quick  is  by  having  recourse,  again  and  again, 
to  the  same  power  which  first  imparted  life  to  them, 
and  this  is  done  by  the  first  means,  the  means  of  simple 
reliance  upon  Christ  in  the  consciousness  of  our  own 


188     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.  xxv. 

deep  need,  and  of  believingly  waiting  upon  Him  for  the 
repeated  communication  of  the  gifts  which  we,  alas ! 
have  so  often  misimproved.  Negligence  is  enough  to 
slay.  Doing  nothing  is  the  sure  way  to  quench  the 
Holy  Spirit. 

And,  on  the  other  hand,  keeping  close  to  Him  is  the 
sure  way  to  secure  that  He  will  never  leave  us.  You 
can  choke  a  lamp  with  oil,  but  you  cannot  have  in 
your  hearts  too  much  of  that  divine  grace.  And  you 
receive  all  that  you  need  if  you  choose  to  go  and  ask  it 
/.  from  Him.  Remember  the  old  story  about  Elisha  and 
the  poor  woman.  The  cruse  of  oil  began  to  run.  She 
brought  all  the  vessels  that  she  could  rake  together, 
big  and  little,  pots  and  cups,  of  all  shapes  and  sizes, 
and  set  them,  one  after  the  other,  under  the  jet  of  oil. 
They  were  all  filled ;  and  when  she  brought  no  more 
vessels  the  oil  stayed.  If  you  do  not  take  your  empty 
hearts  to  God,  and  say, '  Here,  Lord,  fill  this  cup  too ; 
poor  as  it  is,  fill  it  with  Thine  own  gracious  influences,' 
be  very  sure  that  no  such  influences  will  come  to  you. 
But  if  you  do  go,  be  as  sure  of  this,  that  so  long  as  you 
hold  out  your  emptiness  to  Him,  He  will  flood  it  with 
His  fulness,  and  the  light  that  seemed  to  be  sputtering 
to  its  death  will  flame  up  again.  He  will  not  quench 
the  smoking  wick,  if  only  we  carry  it  to  Him ;  but  as 
the  priests  in  the  Temple  walked  all  through  the  night 
to  trim  the  golden  lamps,  so  He  who  walks  amidst  the 
seven  candlesticks  will  see  to  each. 

lY.  And  now  one  last  word.  That  process  of  gradual 
extinction  may  be  going  on,  and  may  have  been  going 
on  for  a  long  while,  and  the  virgin  that  carries  the 
lamp  be  quite  unaware  of  it. 

How  could  a  sleeping  woman  know  whether  her 
lamp  was  burning  or  not  ?    How  can  a  drowsy  Christian 


V.8]      'THEY  THAT  WERE  READY*      189 

tell  whether  his  spiritual  life  is  bright  or  not  ?  To  be 
unconscious  of  our  approximation  to  this  condition  is, 
I  am  afraid,  one  of  the  surest  signs  that  we  are  in  it. 
I  suppose  that  a  paralysed  limb  is  quite  comfortable. 
At  any  rate,  paralysis  of  the  spirit  may  be  going  on 
without  our  knowing  anything  about  it.  So,  dear 
friends,  do  not  put  these  poor  words  of  mine  away 
from  you  and  say,  '  Oh  !  they  do  not  apply  to  me.' 

I  am  quite  sure  that  the  people  to  whom  they  do 
apply  will  be  the  last  people  to  take  them  to  themselves. 
And  while  I  quite  believe,  thank  God !  that  there  are 
many  of  us  who  may  feel  and  know  that  our  lamps 
are  not  going  out,  sure  I  am  that  there  are  some  of  us 
whom  everybody  but  themselves  knows  to  be  carrying 
a  lamp  that  is  so  far  gone  out  that  it  is  smoking  and 
stinking  in  the  eyes  and  noses  of  the  people  that  stand 
by.  Be  sure  that  nobody  was  more  surprised  than  were 
the  five  foolish  women  when  they  opened  their  witless, 
sleepy  eyes,  and  saw  the  state  of  things.  So,  dear 
friends, '  let  your  loins  be  girt  about,  aud  your  lamps 
burning;  and  ye  yourselves  like  unto  men  that  wait 
for  their  Lord.' 


'THEY  THAT  WERE  READY* 

'  They  that  were  ready  went  in  with  him  to  the  marriage.'— Matt.  xxv.  10. 

It  is  interesting  to  notice  the  variety  of  aspects  in 
w^hich,  in  this  long  discourse,  Jesus  sets  forth  His 
Second  Coming.  It  is  like  the  flood  that  swept  away  a 
world.  It  is  like  a  thief  stealing  through  the  dark,  and 
breaking  up  a  house.  It  is  like  a  master  reckoning  with 
his  servants.    These  three  metaphors  suggest  solemn, 


190     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.  xxv. 

one  might  almost  say  alarming,  images.  But  then 
this  parable  comes  in  and  tells  how  that  coming  is  like 
that  of  a  bridegroom  to  the  bride's  house,  with  joy  and 
music.  I  am  afraid  that  the  average  Christian,  when  he 
thinks  at  all  of  Christ's  coming,  takes  these  three  first 
aspects  rather  than  the  last  one,  and  so  loses  what  is 
meant  to  be  a  bright  hope  and  a  great  stimulus.  It  is 
not  in  human  nature  to  think  much  about  a  terrible 
future.  It  is  not  in  human  nature  to  avoid  thinking  a 
great  deal  about  a  blessed  future.  And  although  one 
does  not  wish  to  preach  carelessness,  or  the  ignoring  of 
the  solemn  side  of  that  coming,  sure  I  am  that  our 
Christian  lives  would  be  stronger  and  purer,  brighter 
and  better  able  to  front  the  solemn  side,  if  the  blessed 
side  of  it  were  more  often  the  object  of  our  contempla- 
tion. 

Turning  to  the  words  of  my  text,  which  seem  to  me 
to  be  the  very  centre  and  heart  of  this  parable,  I  ask : — 

I.  What  makes  readiness  ? 

There  have  been  many  answers  given  to  that  question. 
One  has  been  that  to  be  ready  means  to  be  perpetually 
having  before  us  the  thought  of  the  coming  of  the 
Lord,  and  that  has  been  taken  to  be  the  meaning  of  the 
watchfulness  which  is  enjoined  in  the  context.  But 
the  parable  itself  points  in  an  altogether  different 
direction.  Who,  according  to  it,  were  ready  ?  The  five 
who  had  lamps  and  oil.    To  have  these  was  readiness. 

It  is  beautiful  to  notice  how  these  five  who  were 
ready  when  the  Master  came  had  '  slumbered  and  slept ' 
like  the  other  five.  Ah!  that  touch  in  the  picture 
shows  that '  He  knoweth  our  frame ;  He  remembereth 
that  we  are  dust.'  It  is  not  in  human  nature  to  keep 
up  permanently  a  tension  of  expectation  for  a  far-off 
good ;  and  in  profound  knowledge  of  the  weakness  of 


v.io]    *  THEY  THAT  WERE  READY'      191 

humanity,  our  Lord,  in  this  parable,  says :  *  While  the 
Bridegroom  tarried  they  all  slumbered ' — and  yet  the 
five  were  ready  when  the  Bridegroom  came.  In  like 
manner,  Christian  men  and  women  who  have  no  expec- 
tation at  all  that  the  Second  Coming  of  the  Lord  will 
occur  during  their  lifetimes,  may  nevertheless  be  ready, 
if  they  have  the  burning  lamps  and  the  store  of  oil. 
The  question  then*  comes  to  be,  What  is  meant  by 
these  ? 

Perhaps  harm  has  been  done  by  insisting  upon  too 
minute  and  specific  interpretation.  But,  at  the  same 
time,  we  must  not  forget  that,  from  the  very  beginning 
of  the  Jewish  Revelation,  from  the  time  when  the  \ 
seven-branched  candlestick  was  appointed  for  the 
Tabernacle,  right  down  to  the  day  when  the  Apoca- 
lyptic Seer  saw  in  Patmos  the  Son  of  Man  walking  in 
the  midst  of  the  seven  golden  candlesticks,  the  metaphor 
has  had  one  meaning.  The  aggregate  of  God's  people 
are  intended  to  be,  as  Jesus  told  us  immediately  after 
He  had  drawn  the  character  of  a  true  disciple,  in  the 
wonderful  outlines  of  the  Beatitudes,  '  the  light  of  the, 
world,'  and  they  will  be  so  in  the  measure  in  which 
the  gentle  radiance  of  that  character  shines  through 
their  lives,  as  the  light  of  a  lamp  through  frosted  glass. 
But  the  aggregate  is  made  up  of  units,  and  individual 
Christians  are  to  shine  '  as  lights  in  the  world,'  and 
their  separate  brightnesses  are  to  coalesce  in  the 
clustered  light  of  the  whole  Church.  What  makes  an 
individual  Christian  a  light  is  a  Christ-like  life,  derived 
from  that  Life  which  was  '  the  Light  of  men.'  The 
lamp  which  the  five  wise  virgins  bear  is  the  same  as 
the  light  which  the  consistent  Christian  is.  The  inn^r 
self  illuminated  from  Christ,  the  source  of  all  our 
illufnination,  lights  up  the  outward  life,  which  each  of 


192     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.  xxv. 

us  may  be  conceived  as  carrying  in  our  hands.  It  is 
not  ourselves,  and  yet  it  is  ourselves  made  visible.  It 
is  not  ourselves,  but  Christ  in  us;  and  so  we  shine  as 
lights  in  the  world,  only  by  'holding  forth  the  word 
of  life.' 

That  modification  of  the  figure  by  Paul  is  profoundly 
true  and  important,  for  after  all  we  are  not  so  much 
lights  as  candelabra,  and  only  as  we  bear  aloft  the 
flashing  light  of  Christ  shall  we  shine  'in  a  naughty 
world.'  Our  lamps,  then,  are  Christ-like  characters 
derived  from  Christ,  and  to  have  and  bear  these  is  the 
first  element  in  being  ready  for  the  Bridegroom. 

Dear  friends,  remember  that  this  whole  parable  is 
spoken  to  professing  Christians  and  real  members  of 
Christ's  Church;  and  that  there  is  no  meaning  in  it 
unless  it  is  possible  to  quench  the  light  of  the  lamp. 
Remember  that  our  Lord  said  once,  '  Let  your  loins 
be  girt,'  and  put  that  as  the  necessary  condition  of 
lamps  burning.  '  Let  your  loins  be  girt '  with  resolved 
effort  of  faith  and  dependence,  and  make  sure  that 
you  have  the  provision  for  the  continuance  of  the  light. 
So,  and  only  so,  shall  any  man  be  of  the  happy  company 
of  them  that  were  ready. 

II.  Note  that  this  readiness  is  the  condition  of 
entrance. 

'They  that  were  ready  went  in  with  Him  to  the 
marriage.'  Now  faith  alone  unites  a  man  to  Jesus 
Christ,  and  makes  him  an  heir  of  salvation.  But  faith 
alone,  if  that  were  possible,  would  not  admit  a  man  to 
the  marriage-feast.  Of  course  the  supposed  case  is  an 
impossible  case,  for  as  James  has  taught  us  in  his  plain 
moral  way,  faith  which  is  alone  dies,  or  perhaps  never 
lived.  But  what  our  Lord  tells  us  here  is  that  moral 
character,  which  is  of  such  a  sort  as  to  shine  in  the  world's 


V.  10]     'THEY  THAT  WERE  READY'      193 

darkness,  is  the  condition  of  entrance.  People  say  that 
salvation  is  by  faith.  Yes,  that  is  true ;  but  salvation 
is  by  works  also,  only  that  the  works  are  made  possible 
through  faith.  In  the  very  necessity  and  nature  of 
things  nothing  but  the  readiness  which  consists  in 
continued  Christ-like  character  will  ever  allow  a  man 
to  pass  the  threshold.  Now  do  you  believe  that  ?  Or 
are  you  saying,  '  I  trust  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  so  I  am 
sure  I  shall  go  to  Heaven.'  No,  you  will  not,  unless 
your  faith  is  making  you  heavenly,  in  your  temper 
and  conduct.  For  to  talk  about  the  next  world  as  a 
place  of  retribution  is  but  an  imperfect  statement  of 
the  case.  It  is  not  a  place  of  retribution  so  much  as  of 
outcome,  and  the  apostle  gives  a  completer  view  when 
he  says,  '  Whatsoever  a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also 
reap.'  That  future  life  is  not  the  reward  of  goodness 
so  much  as  the  necessary  consequence  of  holiness. 
Holiness  and  blessedness  are,  in  some  measure,  sepa- 
rated here;  there  they  are  two  names  for  the  one 
condition.  '  No  man  shall  see  the  Lord,'  without  that 
holiness.  *  They  that  were  ready  went  in.'  Of  course 
they  did.  Am  I  ready  ?  That  question  means.  Am  I, 
by  my  faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  receiving  into  my  heart 
the  anointing  which  that  great  anointed  One  gives  us  ? 
Am  I  living  a  life  that  is  a  light  in  the  world  ?  If  so, 
and  not  else,  my  entrance  is  sure. 

We  have  seen  what  this  readiness  consists  in,  and 
how  it  is  the  condition  of  entrance.  There  is  one  last 
thought — 

III.  To  delay  preparation  is  madness. 

There  is  nothing  in  all  Christ's  parables  more  tragical, 

more  pathetic,  than  this  picture  of  the  hapless  five 

when  they  woke  up  to  find  their  lamps  going  out. 

They  heard  the  procession  coming,  the  sound  of  feet 

VOL.  III.  N 


194     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xxv. 

drawing  nearer,  and  the  music  borne  every  moment 
more  loudly  on  the  midnight  air.  And  there  were  they, 
with  dying  lamps  and  empty  oil-cans.  Their  shock,  their 
alarm,  their  bewilderment,  are  all  expressed  in  that 
preposterous  request  of  theirs,  '  Give  us  of  your  oil.' 

The  answer  of  the  wise  virgins  has  been  said  to  be 
cold  and  unfeeling.  It  is  not  that ;  it  is  simply  a  plain 
statement  of  facts.  The  oil  that  belongs  to  me  cannot 
be  given  to  you.  That  is  the  first  lesson  taught  us  by 
the  request  of  the  foolish  and  the  answer  of  the  wise. 
'  If  thou  be  wise,  thou  shalt  be  wise  for  thyself ;  and  if 
thou  scornest,  thou  alone  shalt  bear  it.'  '  Every  man 
shall  bear  his  own  burden.'  There  is  no  possible  trans- 
ference of  moral  character  or  spiritual  gifts  in  that 
fashion.  The  awful  individuality  of  each  soul,  and  its 
unshareable  personal  responsibility,  come  solemnly  to 
view  in  the  words  which  superficial  readers  pass  by: 
'Not  so,  lest  there  be  not  enough  for  us  and  you.' 
You  cannot  share  your  brother's  oil.  You  may  share 
many  of  his  possessions  ;  not  this. 

'  Go  to  them  that  sell,  and  buy  for  yourselves.'  The 
question  of  whether  there  was  time  to  buy  was  not  for 
the  five  wise  to  answer.  There  was  not  much  chance 
that  the  would-be  buyers  would  find  a  shop  open  and 
anybody  waiting  to  sell  them  oil  at  twelve  o'clock  at 
night.  But  they  risked  it ;  and  when  they  came  back 
they  were  too  late. 

Now,  dear  friends,  all  the  lessons  of  this  parable  may 
be  taken  by  us,  though  we  do  not  believe,  and  think 
we  have  good  reason  for  not  believing,  that  the  literal 
return  of  Jesus  Christ  is  to  take  place  in  our  time.  It 
does  not  matter  very  much,  in  so  far  as  the  teaching 
of  this  parable  is  concerned,  whether  the  Bridegroom 
comes  to  us,  or  whether  we  go  to  the  Bridegroom.     I 


v.io]      TRADERS  FOR  THE  MASTER      195 

do  not  for  a  moment  say  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
coming  to  Jesus  Christ  in  the  last  hours  of  life,  and 
becoming  ready  to  enter  even  then,  but  I  do  say  that  it 
is  a  very  rare  case,  and  that  there  is  a  terrible  risk  in 
delaying  till  then.  But  I  pray  you  to  remember  that 
our  parable  is  addressed  to,  and  contemplates  the  case 
of,  not  people  who  are  away  from  Jesus  Christ,  but 
Christians,  and  that  it  is  to  them  that  its  message  is 
chiefly  brought.  It  is  they  whom  it  warns  not  to  put 
off  making  sure  that  they  have  provision  for  the  con- 
tinuance of  the  Christ-life.  We  have,  day  by  day,  to 
go  to  Him  that  sells  and  'buy  for  ourselves.'  And  we 
know,  what  it  did  not  fall  within  our  Lord's  purpose 
to  say  in  this  parable,  that  the  price  of  the  oil  is  the 
surrender  of  ourselves,  and  the  opening  of  our  hearts 
to  the  entrance  of  that  divine  Spirit.  Then  there  will 
be  no  fear  but  that  the  lamp  will  hold  out  to  burn,  and 
no  fear  but  that  '  when  the  Bridegroom,  with  His 
feastful  friends,  passes  to  bliss,  at  the  mid-hour  of 
night/  we  shall  gain  our  entrance. 


TRADERS  FOR  THE  MASTER 

'  For  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  as  a  man  travelling  into  a  far  country,  who  called 
his  own  servants,  and  delivered  unto  them  his  goods.  15.  And  unto  one  he  gave 
five  talents,  to  another  two,  and  to  another  one ;  to  every  man  according  to  his 
several  ability ;  and  straightway  took  his  journey.  16.  Then  he  that  had  received 
the  five  talents  went  and  traded  with  the  same,  and  made  them  other  five  talents. 
17.  And  likewise  he  that  had  received  two,  he  also  gained  other  two.  18.  But  he 
that  had  received  one  went  and  digged  in  the  earth,  and  hid  his  lord's  money.  19. 
After  a  long  time  the  lord  of  those  servants  cometh,  and  reckoneth  with  them.  20. 
And  so  he  that  had  received  five  talents  came  and  brought  other  five  talents,  say- 
ing. Lord,  thou  deliveredst  unto  me  five  talents :  behold,  I  have  gained  beside  them 
five  ttilents  more.  21.  His  lord  said  unto  him,  Well  done,  thou  good  and  faithful 
servant :  thou  hast  been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I  will  make  thee  ruler  over 
many  things  :  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  lord.  22.  He  also  that  had  received 
two  talents  came  and  said.  Lord,  thou  deliveredst  unto  me  two  talents  :  behold,  I 
have  gained  two  other  talents  beside  them.  23.  His  lord  said  unto  him.  Well 
done,  good  and  faithful  servant ;  thou  hast  been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I  will 
make  thee  ruler  over  many  things :  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  lord.  24.  Then 
be  which  had  received  the  one  talent  came  and  said,  Lord,  I  knew  thee  that  thou 


196     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxv. 

art  an  hard  man,  reaping  where  thou  hast  not  sown,  and  gathering  where  thou 
hast  not  strawed :  25.  And  I  was  afraid,  and  went  and  hid  thy  talent  in  the  earth : 
lo,  there  thou  hast  that  is  thine.  26.  His  lord  answered  and  said  unto  him,  Thou 
wicked  and  slothful  servant,  thou  knewest  that  I  reap  where  I  sowed  not,  and 
gather  where  I  have  not  strawed :  27.  Thou  oughtest  therefore  to  have  put  my 
money  to  the  exchangers,  and  then  at  my  coming  I  should  have  received  mine 
own  with  usury.  28.  Take  therefore  the  talent  from  him,  and  give  it  unto  him 
which  hath  ten  talents.  29.  For  unto  every  one  that  hath  shall  be  given,  and  he 
shall  have  abundance :  but  from  him  that  hath  not  shall  be  taken  away  even  that 
which  he  hath.  30.  And  cast  ye  the  unprofitable  servant  into  outer  darkness: 
there  shall  be  weeping  and  gnashing  6t  teeth.'— Matt.  xxv.  11-30. 

The  parable  of  the  Ten  Virgins  said  nothing  about 
their  working  whilst  they  waited.  This  one  sets  forth 
that  side  of  the  duties  of  the  servants  in  their  master's 
absence,  and  so  completes  the  former.  It  is  clearly  in 
its  true  historical  connection  here,  and  is  closely  knit 
to  both  the  preceding  and  following  context.  It  is  a 
strange  instance  of  superficial  reading  that  it  should 
ever  have  been  supposed  to  be  but  another  version  of 
Luke's  parable  of  the  pounds.  The  very  resemblances 
of  the  two  are  meant  to  give  force  to  their  differences, 
which  are  fundamental.  They  are  the  converse  of 
each  other.  That  of  the  pounds  teaches  that  men  who 
have  the  same  gifts  intrusted  to  them  may  make  a 
widely  different  use  of  these,  and  will  be  rewarded 
differently,  in  strictly  graduated  proportion  to  their 
unlike  diligence.  The  lesson  of  the  parable  before  us, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  that  men  with  dissimilar  gifts  may 
employ  them  with  equal  diligence  ;  and  that,  if  they  do, 
their  reward  shall  be  the  same,  however  great  the 
endowments  of  one,  and  slender  those  of  another.  A 
reader  who  has  missed  that  distinction  must  be  very 
shortsighted,  or  sworn  to  make  out  a  case  against  the 
Gospels. 

I.  We  may  consider  the  lent  capital  and  the  business 
done  with  it. 

Masters  nowadays  do  not  give  servants  their  money 
to  trade  with,   when  they  leave  home;  but  the  in- 


vs.  14-30]   TRADERS  FOR  THE  MASTER    197 

cident  is  true  to  the  old-world  relations  of  master 
and  slave.  Our  Lord's  consciousness  of  His  near  de- 
parture, which  throbs  in  all  this  context,  comes  out 
emphatically  here.  He  is  preparing  His  disciples 
for  the  time  when  they  will  have  to  work  without 
Him,  like  the  managers  of  some  branch  house  of 
business  whose  principal  has  gone  abroad.  What 
are  the  '  talents '  with  which  He  will  start  them  on 
their  own  account?  We  have  taken  the  word  intol 
common  language,  however  little  we  remember  the 
teaching  of  the  parable  as  to  the  hand  that  gives  '  men 
of  talent '  their  endowments.  But  the  natural  powers 
usually  called  by  the  name  are  not  what  Christ  means 
here,  though  the  principles  of  the  parable  may  be 
extended  to  include  them.  For  these  powers  are  the 
*  ability '  according  to  which  the  talents  are  given.  Butl 
the  talents  themselves  are  the  spiritual  knowledge 
and  endowments  which  are  properly  the  gifts  of  the  J 
ascended  Lord  to  His  Church.  Two  important  lessons 
as  to  these  are  conveyed.  First,  that  they  are  distri- 
buted in  varying  measure,  and  that  not  arbitrarily,  by 
the  mere  will  of  the  giver,  but  according  to  his  discern- 
ment of  what  each  servant  can  profitably  administer. 
The  *  ability '  which  settles  their  amount  is  not  more 
closely  defined.  It  may  include  natural  faculty,  for 
Christ's  gifts  usually  follow  the  line  of  that ;  and  the 
larger  the  nature,  the  more  of  Him  it  can  contain. 
But  it  also  includes  spiritual  receptiveness  and  faith- 
fulness, which  increase  the  absorbing  power.  The 
capacity  to  receive  will  also  be  the  capacity  to  ad- 
minister, and  it  will  be  fully  filled. 

The  second  lesson  taught  is  that  spiritual  gifts  are 
given  for  trading  with.  In  other  words,  they  are 
here  considered  not  so  much  as  blessings  to  the  pos- 


198     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.  xxv. 

sessor  as  his  stock-in-trade,  which  he  can  employ  for 
the  Master's  enrichment.  We  are  all  tempted  to 
think  of  them  mostly  as  given  us  for  our  own 
blessing  and  joy ;  and  the  reminder  is  never  unseason- 
able that  a  Christian  receives  nothing  for  himself 
alone.  God  hath  shined  into  our  hearts,  that  we  may 
give  to  others  the  light  of  the  knowledge  which  has 
flashed  glad  day  into  our  darkness.  The  Master  in- 
trusts us  with  a  portion  of  His  wealth,  not  for  expending 
on  ourselves,  but  for  trading  with. 

■  A  third  principle  here  is  that  the  right  use  of  His  gifts 
increases  them  in  our  hands.  '  Money  makes  money.' 
The  five  talents  grow  to  ten,  the  two  to  four.  The 
surest  way  to  increase  our  possession  of  Christ's  grace 
is  to  try  to  impart  it.  There  is  no  better  way  of 
strengthening  our  own  faith  than  to  seek  to  make 
others  share  in  it.  Christian  convictions,  spoken,  are 
confirmed,  but  muffled  in  silence  are  weakened.  *  There 
is  that  scattereth  and  yet  increaseth.'  Seed  heaped 
and  locked  up  in  a  granary  breeds  weevils  and  moths ; 
flung  broadcast  over  the  furrows,  it  multiplies  into 
seed  that  can  be  sown  again,  and  bread  that  feeds  the 
sower.  So  we  have  in  this  part  of  the  parable  almost 
the  complete  summary  of  the  principles  on  which,  the 
purposes  for  which,  and  the  results  to  faithful  use 
with  which,  Christ  gives  His  gifts. 

The  conduct  of  the  slenderly  endowed  servant  who 
hides  his  talent  will  be  considered  farther  on. 

II.  We  note  the  faithful  servants'  balance-sheet  and 
reward. 

Our  Lord  again  sounds  the  note  of  delay — •  After 
a  long  time' — an  indefinite  phrase  which  we  know 
carries  centuries  in  its  folds,  how  many  more  we 
know  not,  nor  are  intended  to  know.    The  two  faithful 


vs.  14-30]   TRADERS  FOR  THE  MASTER    199 

servants  present  their  balance-sheet  in  identical  words, 
and  receive  the  same  commendation  and  reward.  Their 
speech  is  in  sharp  contrast  with  the  idle  one's  excuse, 
inasmuch  as  it  puts  a  glad  acknowledgment  of  the 
lord's  giving  in  the  forefront,  as  if  to  teach  that  the 
thankful  recognition  of  his  liberality  underlies  all 
joyful  and  successful  service,  and  deepens  while  it 
makes  glad  the  sense  of  responsibility.  The  cords  of 
love  are  silken  ;  and  he  who  begins  with  setting  before 
himself  the  largeness  of  Christ's  gifts  to  him,  will  not 
fail  in  using  these  so  as  to  increase  them.  In  the  light 
of  that  day,  the  servant  sees  more  clearly  than  when 
he  was  at  work  the  results  of  his  work.  We  do  not 
know  what  the  year's  profits  have  been  till  stock- 
taking and  balancing-time  conies.  Here  we  often  say, 
'  I  have  laboured  in  vain.'  There  we  shall  say, '  I  have 
gained  five  talents.' 

The  verbatim  repetition  of  the  same  words  to  both 
servants  teaches  the  great  lesson  of  this  parable  as 
contrasted  with  that  of  the  pounds,  that  where  there 
has  been  the  same  faithful  work,  with  different 
amounts  of  capital,  there  will  be  the  same  reward. 
Our  Master  does  not  care  about  quantity,  but  about 
quality  and  motive.  The  slave  with  a  few  shillings, 
enough  to  stock  meagrely  a  little  stall,  may  show  as 
much  business  capacity,  diligence,  and  fidelity,  as  if 
he  had  millions  to  work  with.  Christ  rewards  not 
actions,  but  the  graces  which  are  made  visible  in 
actions ;  and  these  can  be  as  well  seen  in  the  tiniest  as 
in  the  largest  deeds.  The  light  that  streams  through 
a  pin-prick  is  the  same  that  pours  through  the  widest 
window.  The  crystals  of  a  salt  present  the  same  facets, 
flashing  back  the  sun  at  the  same  angles,  whether 
they  be  large  or  microscopically  small.    Therefore  the 


200     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxv. 

judgment  of  Christ,  which  is  simply  the  utterance  of 
fact,  takes  no  heed  of  the  extent  but  only  of  the  kind 
of  service,  and  puts  on  the  same  level  of  recompense  all 
who,  with  however  widely  varying  powers,  were  one 
in  spirit,  in  diligence,  and  devotion.  The  eulogium 
on  the  servants  is  not  '  successful '  or  *  brilliant,'  but 
'  faithful,'  and  both  alike  get  it. 

The  words  of  the  lord  fall  into  three  parts.  First 
comes  his  generous  and  hearty  praise, — the  brief  and 
emphatic  monosyllable  '  Well,'  and  the  characterisation 
of  the  servants  as  'good  and  faithful.'  Praise  from 
Christ's  lips  is  praise  indeed ;  and  here  He  pours  it  out 
in  no  grudging  or  scanty  measure,  but  with  warmth 
and  evident  delight.  His  heart  glows  with  pleasure, 
and  His  commendation  is  musical  with  the  utterance 
of  His  own  joy  in  His  servants.  He  'rejoices  over 
them  with  singing ' ;  and  more  gladly  than  a  fond 
mother  speaks  honeyed  words  of  approval  to  her 
darling,  of  whose  goodness  she  is  proud,  does  He  praise 
these  two.  When  we  are  tempted  to  disparage  our 
slender  powers  as  compared  with  those  of  His  more 
conspicuous  servants,  and  to  suppose  that  all  which  we 
do  is  nought,  let  us  think  of  this  merciful  and  loving 
estimate  of  our  poor  service.  For  such  words  from  such 
lips,  life  itself  were  wisely  flung  away;  but  such  words 
from  such  lips  will  be  spoken  in  recognition  of  many  a 
piece  of  service  less  high  and  heroic  than  a  martyr's. 
'  Good  and  faithful'  refers  not  to  the  more  general  notion 
of  goodness,  but  to  the  special  excellence  of  a  servant, 
and  the  latter  word  seems  to  define  the  former.  Fidelity 
is  the  grace  which  He  praises, — manifested  in  the  recog- 
nition that  the  capital  was  a  loan,  given  to  be  traded 
with  for  Him,  and  to  be  brought  back  increased  to  Him. 
He  is  faithful  who  ever  keeps  in  view,  and  acts  on,  the 


vs.  14-30]   TRADERS  FOR  THE  MASTER     201 

conditions  on  which,  and  the  purposes  for  which,  he  has 
received  his  spiritual  wealth  ;  and  '  he  who  is  faithful 
in  that  which  is  least,  is  faithful  also  in  much.' 

The  second  part  of  the  lord's  words  is  the  appointment 
to  higher  office,  as  the  reward  of  faithfulness.  Here 
on  earth,  the  tools  come,  in  the  long  run,  to  the  hands 
that  can  use  them,  and  the  best  reward  of  faithfulness 
in  a  narrower  sphere  is  to  be  lifted  to  a  wider.  Pro- 
motion means  more  to  do ;  and  if  the  world  were 
rightly  organised,  the  road  to  advancement  would  be 
diligence;  and  the  higher  a  man  climbed,  the  wider 
would  be  the  horizon  of  his  labour.  It  is  so  in  Christ's 
kingdom,  and  should  be  so  in  His  visible  Church.  It 
will  be  so  in  heaven.  Clearly  this  saying  implies  the 
active  theory  of  the  future  life,  and  the  continuance  in 
some  ministry  of  love,  unknown  to  us,  of  the  energies 
which  were  trained  in  the  small  transactions  of  earth. 
*  If  five  talents  are  "  a  few  things,"  how  great  the  •'  many 
things "  will  be ! '  In  the  parable  of  the  pounds,  the 
servant  is  made  a  ruler;  here  being  'set  over'  seems 
rather  still  to  point  to  the  place  of  a  steward  or 
servant.  The  sphere  is  enlarged,  but  the  office  is  un- 
altered. The  manager  who  conducted  a  small  trade 
rightly  will  be  advanced  to  the  superintendence  of  a 
larger  business. 

'  We  doubt  not  that  for  one  so  true 
There  must  be  other,  nobler  work  to  do,' 

and  that  in  that  work  the  same  law  will  continue  to 
operate,  and  faithfulness  be  crowned  with  ever-growing 
capacities  and  tasks  through  a  dateless  eternity. 

The  last  vrords  of  the  lord  pass  beyond  our  poor 
attempts  at  commenting.  No  eye  can  look  undazzled 
at  the  sun.    When  Christ  was  near  the  Cross,  He  left 


202      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxv. 

His  disciples  a  strange  bequest  at  such  a  moment, — His 
joy ;  and  that  is  their  brightest  portion  here,  even 
though  it  be  shaded  with  many  sorrows.  The  enthroned 
Christ  welcomes  all  who  have  known  '  the  fellowship 
of  His  sufferings '  into  the  fulness  of  His  heavenly  joy, 
unshaded,  unbroken,  unspeakable ;  and  they  pass  into 
it  as  into  an  encompassing  atmosphere,  or  some  broad 
land  of  peace  and  abundance.  Sympathy  with  His 
purposes  leads  to  such  oneness  with  Him  that  His  joy 
is  ours,  both  in  its  occasions  and  in  its  rapture.  *  Thou 
makest  them  drink  of  the  river  of  Thy  pleasures,'  and 
the  lord  and  the  servant  drink  from  the  same  cup. 

III.    The   excuse  and  punishment  of  the    indolent 
servant. 

His  excuse  is  his  reason.  He  did  think  hardly  of  his 
lord,  and,  even  though  he  had  His  gift  in  his  hand  to 
confute  him,  he  slandered  Him  in  his  heart  as  harsh  and 
exacting.  To  many  men  the  requirements  of  religion 
are  more  prominent  than  its  gifts,  and  God  is  thought 
of  as  demanding  rather  than  as  *  the  giving  God.' 
Such  thoughts  paralyse  action.  Fear  is  barren,  love  is 
fruitful.  Nothing  grows  on  the  mountain  of  curses, 
which  frowns  black  over  against  the  sunny  slopes  of 
the  mountain  of  blessing  with  its  blushing  grapes.  The 
indolence  was  illogical,  for,  if  the  master  was  such  as 
was  thought,  the  more  reason  for  diligence ;  but  fear  is 
a  bad  reasoner,  and  the  absurd  gap  between  the  pre- 
mises and  the  conclusion  is  matched  by  one  of  the  very 
same  width  in  every  life  that  thinks  of  God  as  rigidly 
requiring  obedience,  which,  therefore,  it  does  not  give ! 
Still  another  error  is  in  the  indolent  servant's  words. 
He  flings  down  the  hoarded  talent  with  '  Lo,  thou  hast 
thine  own.'  He  was  mistaken.  Talents  hid  are  not, 
when  dug  up,  as  heavy  as  they  were  when  buried.     This 


vs.  14-30]   TRADERS  FOR  THE  MASTER    203 

gold  does  rust,  and  a  life  not  devoted  to  God  is  never 
carried  back  to  Him  unspoiled. 

The  lord's  answer  again  falls  into  three  parts,  corre- 
sponding to  that  to  the  faithful  servants.  First  conies 
the  stern  characterisation  of  the  man.  As  w^ith  the 
others'  goodness,  his  badness  is  defined  by  the  second 
epithet.  It  is  slothf  ulness.  Is  that  all  ?  Yes  ;  it  does 
not  need  active  opposition  to  pull  down  destruction  on 
one's  head.  Simple  indolence  is  enough,  the  negative 
sin  of  not  doing  or  being  what  we  ought.  Ungirt 
loins,  unlit  lamps,  unused  talents,  sink  a  man  like 
lead.    Doing  nothing  is  enough  for  ruin. 

The  remarkable  answer  to  the  servant's  charge  seems 
to  teach  us  that  timid  souls,  conscious  of  slender  endow- 
ments, and  pressed  by  the  heavy  sense  of  responsibility, 
and  shrinking  from  Christian  enterprises,  for  fear  of 
incurring  heavier  condemnation,  may  yet  find  means  of 
using  their  little  capital.  The  bankers,  who  invest  the 
collective  contributions  of  small  capitalists  to  advan- 
tage, may,  or  may  not,  be  intended  to  be  translated 
into  the  Church;  but,  at  any  rate,  the  principle  of  united 
service  is  here  recommended  to  those  who  feel  too 
weak  for  independent  action.  Slim  houses  in  a  row 
hold  each  other  up;  and,  if  we  cannot  strike  out  a 
path  for  ourselves,  let  us  seek  strength  and  safety  in 
numbers. 

The  fate  of  the  indolent  servant  has  a  double  horror. 
It  is  loss  and  suffering.  The  talent  is  taken  from  the 
slack  hands  and  coward  heart  that  would  not  use  it, 
and  given  to  the  man  who  had  shown  he  could  and 
would.  Gifts  unemployed  for  Christ  are  stripped  off  a 
soul  yonder.  How  much  will  go  from  many  a  richly 
endowed  spirit,  which  here  flashed  with  unconsecrated 
genius  and  force  I    We  do  not  need  to  wait  for  eternity 


204     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.  xxv. 

to  see  that  true  possession,  which  is  use,  increases 
powers,  and  that  disuse,  which  is  equivalent  to  not 
possessing,  robs  of  them.  The  blacksmith's  arm,  the 
scout's  eye,  the  craftsman's  delicate  finger,  the  student's 
intellect,  the  sensualist's  passions,  all  illustrate  the  law 
on  its  one  side;  and  the  dying  out  of  faculties  and 
tastes,  and  even  of  intuitions  and  conscience,  by  reason 
of  simple  disuse,  are  melancholy  instances  of  it  on  the 
other.  But  the  solemn  words  of  this  condemnation 
seem  to  point  to  a  far  more  awful  energy  in  its  work- 
ing in  the  future,  when  everything  that  has  not  been 
consecrated  by  employment  for  Jesus  shall  be  taken 
away,  and  the  soul,  stripped  of  its  garb,  shall  *  be  found 
naked.'  How  far  that  process  of  divesting  may  affect 
faculties,  without  touching  the  life,  who  can  tell? 
Enough  to  see  with  awe  that  a  spirit  may  be  cut,  as  it 
were,  to  the  quick,  and  still  exist. 

But  loss  is  not  all  the  indolent  servant's  doom.  Once 
more,  like  the  slow  toll  of  a  funeral  bell,  we  hear  the 
dread  sentence  of  ejection  to  the  *  mirk  midnight '  with- 
out, where  are  tears  undried  and  passion  unavailing. 
There  is  something  very  awful  in  the  monotonous 
repetition  of  that  sentence  so  often  in  these  last 
discourses  of  Christ's.  The  most  loving  lips  that 
ever  spoke,  in  love,  shaped  this  form  of  words,  so  heart- 
touching  in  its  wailing,  but  decisive,  proclamation  of 
blackness,  homelessness,  and  sorrow,  and  cannot  but 
toll  them  over  and  over  again  into  our  ears,  in  sad 
knowledge  of  our  forgetfulness  and  unbelief, — if  per- 
chance we  may  listen  and  be  warned,  and,  having  heard 
the  sound  thereof,  may  never  know  the  reality  of  that 
death  in  life  which  is  the  sure  end  of  the  indolent  who 
were  blind  to  His  gifts,  and  therefore  would  not  listen 
to  His  requirements. 


WHY  THE  TALENT  WAS  BURIED 

'Then  he  which  had  received  the  one  talent  came  and  said,  Lord,  I  knew  thee 
that  thou  art  an  hard  man,  reaping  where  thou  hast  not  sown,  and  gathering 
where  thou  hast  not  strawed  :  25.  And  I  was  afraid,  and  went  and  hid  thy  talent 
in  the  earth.'— Matt.  xxv.  24,  25. 

That  was  a  strangely  insolent  excuse  for  indolence. 
To  charge  an  angry  master  to  his  face  with  grasping 
greed  and  injustice  was  certainly  not  the  way  to  con- 
ciliate him.  Such  language  is  quite  unnatural  and  in- 
congruous until  we  remember  the  reality  which  the 
parable  was  meant  to  shadow — viz.,  the  answers  for 
their  deeds  which  men  will  give  at  Christ's  judgment 
bar.  Then  we  can  understand  how,  by  some  irresistible 
necessity,  this  man  was  compelled,  even  at  the  risk  of 
increasing  the  indignation  of  the  master,  to  turn  him- 
self inside  out,  and  to  put  into  harsh,  ugly  words  the 
half-conscious  thoughts  which  had  guided  his  life  and 
caused  his  unfaithfulness.  '  Every  one  of  us  shall  give 
account  of  himself  to  God.'  The  unabashed  impudence 
of  such  an  excuse  for  idleness  as  this  is  but  putting 
into  vivid  and  impressive  form  this  truth,  that  then  a 
man's  actions  in  their  true  character,  and  the  ugly 
motives  that  underlie  them,  and  which  he  did  not 
always  honestly  confess  to  himself,  will  be  clear  before 
him.  It  will  be  as  much  of  a  surprise  to  the  men  them- 
selves, in  many  cases,  as  it  could  be  to  listeners.  Thus 
it  becomes  us  to  look  well  to  the  under  side  of  our 
lives,  the  unspoken  convictions  and  the  unformulated 
motives  which  work  all  the  more  mightily  upon  us 
because,  for  the  most  part,  they  work  in  the  dark. 
This  is  Christ's  explanation  of  one  very  operative  and 
fruitful  cause  of  the  refusal  to  serve  Him. 

I.  I  ask  you,  then,  to  consider,  first,  the  slander  here 
and  the  truth  that  contradicts  it, 

206 


206     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxv. 

'I  knew  thee  that  thou  art  an  hard  man,'  says  he, 
*  reaping  where  thou  hast  not  sown  '  (and  he  was  stand- 
ing with  the  unused  talent  in  his  hand  all  the  while),  'and 
gathering  where  thou  hast  not  strawed.'  That  is  to  say, 
deep  down  in  many  a  heart  that  has  never  said  as  much 
to  itself,  there  lies  this  black  drop  of  gall — a  conception 
of  the  divine  character  rather  as  demanding  than  as 
giving,  a  thought  of  Him  as  exacting.  What  He  requires 
is  more  considered  than  what  He  bestows.  So  religion 
is  thought  to  be  mainly  a  matter  of  doing  certain  things 
and  rendering  up  certain  sacrifices,  instead  of  being 
regarded,  as  it  really  is,  as  mainly  a  matter  of  receiv- 
ing from  God.  Christ's  authority  makes  me  bold  to 
say  that  this  error  underlies  the  lives  of  an  immense 
number  of  nominal  Christians,  of  people  who  think 
themselves  very  good  and  religious,  as  well  as  the 
lives  of  thousands  who  stand  apart  from  religion  alto- 
gether. And  I  want,  not  to  drag  down  any  curtain  by 
my  own  hand,  but  to  ask  you  to  lift  away  the  veil  which 
hides  the  ugly  thing  in  your  hearts,  and  to  put  your  own 
consciousness  to  the  bar  of  your  own  conscience,  and 
say  whether  it  is  not  true  that  the  uppermost  thought 
about  God,  when  you  think  about  Him  at  all,  is,  '  Thou 
art  an  hard  man,  reaping  where  thou  hast  not  sown.' 

It  is  not  difficult  to  understand  why  such  a  thought 
of  God  should  rise  in  a  heart  which  has  no  delight  in 
Him  nor  in  His  service.  There  is  a  side  of  the  truth 
as  to  God's  relations  to  man  which  gives  a  colour  of 
plausibility  to  the  slander.  Grave  and  stringent  re- 
quirements are  made  by  the  divine  law  upon  each  of 
us  ;  and  our  consciences  tell  us  that  they  have  not  been 
kept.  Therefore  we  seek  to  persuade  ourselves  that 
they  are  too  severe.  Then,  further,  we  are,  by  reason 
of  our  own  selfishness,  almost  incapable  of  rising  to 


vs.  24, 25]      THE  BURIED  TALENT  207 

the  conception  of  God's  pure,  perfect,  disinterested  love ; 
and  we  are  far  too  blind  to  the  benefits  that  He  pours 
upon  us  all  every  day  of  our  lives.  And  so  from  all 
these  reasons  taken  together,  and  some  more  besides, 
it  comes  about  that,  for  some  of  us,  the  blessed  sun  in 
the  heavens,  the  God  of  all  mercy  and  love,  has  been 
darkened  into  a  lurid  orb  shorn  of  all  its  beneficent 
beams,  and  hangs  threatening  there  in  our  misty  sky. 
•  I  knew  Thee  that  Thou  art  an  hard  man.'  Ah !  I 
am  sure  that  if  we  would  go  down  into  the  deep  places 
of  our  own  hearts,  and  ask  ourselves  what  our  real 
thought  of  God  is,  many  of  us  would  acknowledge  that 
it  is  something  like  that. 

Now  turn  to  the  other  side.  What  is  the  truth  that 
smites  this  slander  to  death  ?  That  God  is  perfect, 
pure,  unmingled,  infinite  love.  And  what  is  love? 
The  infinite  desire  to  impart  itself.  His  'nature  and 
property '  is  to  be  merciful,  and  you  can  no  more  stop 
God  from  giving  than  you  can  shut  up  the  rays  of  the 
sun  within  itself.  To  be  and  to  bestow  are  for  Him 
one  and  the  same  thing.  His  love  is  an  infinite 
longing  to  give,  which  passes  over  into  perpetual  acts 
of  beneficence.  He  never  reaps  where  He  has  not 
sown.  Is  there  any  place  where  He  has  not  sown? 
Is  there  any  heart  on  which  there  have  been  no 
seeds  of  goodness  scattered  from  His  rich  hand  ?  The 
calumniator  in  the  text  was  speaking  his  slanders 
with  that  in  his  hand  which  should  have  stopped  his 
mouth.  He  who  complained  that  the  hard  master  was 
asking  for  fruit  of  what  He  had  not  given  would  have 
had  nothing  at  all,  if  he  had  not  obtained  the  one 
talent  from  His  hand.  And  there  is  no  place  in  the 
whole  wide  universe  of  God  where  His  love  has  not 
scattered  its  beneficent  gifts.      There   are  no   fallow 


208      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xxv. 

fields  out  of  cultivation  and  unsown,  in  His  great  farm. 
He  never  asks  where  He  has  not  given. 

He  never  asks  until  after  He  has  given.  He  begins 
with  bestowing,  and  it  is  only  after  the  vineyard  has 
been  planted  on  the  very  fruitful  hill,  and  the  hedge 
built  round  about  it,  and  the  winepress  digged,  and  the 
tower  erected,  and  miracles  of  long-suffering  mercy 
and  skilful  patience  have  been  lavished  upon  it,  that 
then  He  looks  that  it  should  bring  forth  grapes.  God's 
gifts  precede  His  requirements.  He  ever  sows  before 
He  reaps.  More  than  that.  He  gives  what  He  asks, 
helping  us  to  render  to  Him  the  hearts  that  He  desires. 
He,  by  His  own  merciful  communications,  makes  it 
possible  that  we  should  lay  at  His  feet  the  tribute  of 
loving  thanks.  Just  as  a  parent  will  give  a  child  some 
money  in  order  that  the  child  may  go  and  buy  the 
giver  a  birthday  present,  so  God  gives  to  us  hearts,  and 
enriches  them  with  many  bestowments.  He  scatters 
round  about  us  good  from  His  hand,  like  drops  of  a 
fragrant  perfume  from  a  blazing  torch,  in  order  that 
we  may  catch  them  up  and  have  some  portion  of  the 
joy  which  is  especially  His  own — the  joy  of  giving. 
It  would  be  a  poor  affair  if  our  sole  relation  to  God 
were  that  of  receiving.  It  would  be  a  tyrannous  affair 
if  our  sole  relation  to  God  were  that  of  rendering  up. 
But  both  relations  are  united,  and  if  it  be '  more  blessed 
to  give  than  to  receive,'  the  Giver  of  all  good  does  not 
leave  us  without  the  opportunity  of  entering  in  even  to 
th<at  superlative  blessing.  We  have  to  come  to  Him  and 
say,  when  we  lay  the  gifts,  either  of  our  faculties  or  of 
our  trust,  of  our  riches  or  of  our  virtues,  at  His  feet, 
•  All  things  come  of  Thee,  and  of  Thine  own  have  we 
given  Thee.' 

He  asks  for  our  sakes,  and  not  for  His  own.    'If  I 


vs.  24, 25]       THE  BURIED  TALENT  209 

were  hungry  I  would  not  tell  thee,  for  the  cattle  upon 
a  thousand  hills  are  Mine.  Offer  unto  God  praise,  and 
pay  thy  vows  unto  the  Most  High.'  It  is  blessed  to  us 
to  render.  He  is  none  the  richer  for  all  our  giving,  as 
He  is  none  the  poorer  for  all  His.  Yet  His  giving  to 
us  is  real,  and  our  giving  is  real  and  a  joy  to  Him. 
That  is  the  truth  lifted  up  against  the  slander  of  the 
natural  heart.  God  is  love,  pure  giving,  unlimited  and 
perpetual  disposition  to  bestow.  He  gives  all  things 
before  He  asks  for  anything,  and  when  He  asks  for 
anything  it  is  that  we  may  be  blessed. 

But  you  say,  'That  is  all  very  well — where  do  you 
learn  all  that  about  God  ? '  My  answer  is  a  very  simple 
one.  I  learn  it,  and  I  believe  there  is  no  other  place  to 
learn  it,  at  the  Cross  of  Jesus  Christ.  If  that  be  the  very 
apex  of  the  divine  love  and  self-revelation ;  if,  looking 
upon  it,  we  understand  God  better  than  by  any  other 
means,  then  there  can  be  no  question  but  that  instead 
of  gathering  where  He  has  not  strawed,  and  reaping 
where  He  has  not  sown,  God  is  only,  and  always,  and 
utterly,  and  to  every  man,  infinite  love  that  bestows 
itself.  My  heart  says  to  me  many  a  time,  '  God's  laws 
are  hard,  God's  judgment  is  strict.  God  requires  what 
you  cannot  give.  Crouch  before  Him,  and  be  afraid.* 
And  my  faith  says,  '  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  ! '  '  He 
that  spared  not  His  own  Son,  .  .  .  how  shall  He  not 
with  Him  also  freely  give  us  all  things  ? '  The  Cross  of 
Christ  is  the  answer  to  the  slander,  and  the  revelation 
of  the  giving  God. 

II.  Secondly,  mark  here  the  fear  that  dogs  such  a 
thought,  and  the  love  that  casts  out  the  fear. 

'I  was  afraid.'  Yes,  of  course.  If  a  man  is  not  a 
fool,  his  emotions  follow  his  thoughts,  and  his  thoughts 
ought  to  shape  his  emotions.    And  wherever  there  is 

VOL.  IIL  O 


210     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xxv. 

the  twilight  of  uncertainty  upon  the  great  lesson  that 
the  Cross  of  Jesus  Christ  has  taught  us,  there  there  will 
be,  however  masked  and  however  modified  by  other 
thoughts,  deep  in  the  human  heart,  a  perhaps  unspoken, 
but  not  therefore  ineffectual,  dread  of  God.  Just  as 
the  misconception  of  the  divine  character  does  influence 
many  a  life  in  which  it  has  never  been  spoken  articu- 
lately, and  needs  some  steady  observation  of  ourselves 
to  be  detected,  so  is  it  with  this  dread  of  Him.  Carry 
the  task  of  self-examination  a  little  further,  and  ask 
yourselves  whether  there  does  not  lie  coiled  in  many 
of  your  hearts  this  dread  of  God,  like  a  sleeping  snake, 
which  only  needs  a  little  warmth  to  be  awakened 
to  sting.  There  are  all  the  signs  of  it.  There  are 
many  of  you  who  have  a  distinct  indisposition  to  be 
brought  close  up  to  the  thought  of  Him.  There  are 
many  of  you  who  have  a  distinct  sense  of  discomfort 
when  you  are  pressed  against  the  realities  of  the 
Christian  religion.  There  are  many  of  you  who,  though 
you  cover  it  over  with  a  shallow  confidence,  or  en- 
deavour to  persuade  yourselves  into  speculative  doubts 
about  the  divine  nature,  or  hide  it  from  yourselves  by 
indifference,  yet  know  that  all  that  is  very  thin  ice, 
and  that  there  is  a  great  black  pool  down  below — a 
dread  at  the  heart,  of  a  righteous  Judge  somewhere, 
with  whom  you  have  somewhat  to  do,  that  you  cannot 
shake  off.  I  do  not  want  to  appeal  to  fear,  but  it  goes 
to  one's  heart  to  see  the  hundreds  and  thousands  of 
people  round  about  us  who,  just  because  they  are  afraid 
of  God,  will  not  think  about  Him,  put  away  angrily  and 
impatiently  solemn  words  like  these  that  I  am  trying 
to  speak,  and  seek  to  surround  themselves  with  some 
kind  of  a  fool's  paradise  of  indifference,  and  to  shut 
their  eyes  to  facts  and  realities.    You  do  not  confess  it 


vs.  24, 25]     THE  BURIED  TALENT  211 

to  yourselves.  What  kind  of  a  thought  must  that  be 
about  your  relation  to  God  which  you  are  afraid  to 
speak?  Some  of  you  remember  the  awful  words  in 
one  of  Shakespeare's  plays  :  '  Now  I,  to  comfort  him, 
bid  him  he  should  not  think  of  God.  I  hoped  there 
was  no  need  to  trouble  himself  with  any  such  thoughts 
yet.'  What  does  that  teach  us  ?  'I  knew  Thee  that 
Thou  art  an  hard  man ;  and  I  was  afraid.' 

Dear  friend,  there  are  two  religions  in  this  world : 
there  is  the  religion  of  fear,  and  there  is  the  religion  of 
love ;  and  if  you  have  not  the  one,  you  must  have  the 
other,  if  you  have  any  at  all.  The  only  way  to  get 
perfect  love  that  casts  out  fear  is  to  be  quite  sure  of 
the  Father-love  in  heaven  that  begets  it.  And  the 
only  way  to  be  sure  of  the  infinite  love  in  the  heavens 
that  kindles  some  little  spark  of  love  in  our  hearts  here, 
is  to  go  to  Christ  and  learn  the  lesson  that  He  reveals 
to  us  at  His  Cross.  Love  will  annihilate  the  fear ;  or 
rather,  if  I  may  take  such  a  figure,  will  set  a  light  to 
the  wreathing  smoke  that  rises,  and  flash  it  all  up  into 
a  ruddy  flame.  For  the  perfect  love  that  casts  out  fear 
sublimes  it  into  reverence  and  changes  it  into  trust. 
Have  you  got  that  love,  and  did  you  get  it  at  Christ's 
Cross  ? 

III.  Lastly,  mark  the  torpor  of  fear  and  the  activity 
of  love.  '  I  was  afraid,  and  I  went  and  hid  thy  talent 
in  the  earth.' 

Fear  paralyses  service,  cuts  the  nerve  of  activity, 
makes  a  man  refuse  obedience  to  God.  It  was  a  very 
illogical  thing  of  that  indolent  servant  to  say,  '  I  knew 
that  you  were  so  hard  in  exacting  what  was  due  to  you 
that  therefore  I  determined  not  to  give  it  to  you.'  Is  it 
more  illogical  and  more  absurd  than  what  hundreds  of 
men  and  women  round  about  us  do  to-day,  when  they 


212      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxv. 

say,  'God's  requirements  are  so  great  that  I  do  not 
attempt  to  fulfil  them '  ?  One  would  have  thought  that 
he  would  have  reasoned  the  other  way,  and  said,  '  Be- 
cause I  knew  that  Thy  requirements  were  so  great 
and  severe,  therefore  I  put  myself  with  all  my  powers 
to  my  work.'  Not  so.  Logical  or  illogical,  the  result 
remains,  that  that  thought  of  God,  that  black  drop  of 
gall,  in  many  a  heart,  stops  the  action  of  the  hand. 
Fear  is  barren,  or  if  it  produces  anything  it  is  nothing 
to  the  purpose,  and  it  brings  gifts  that  not  even  God's 
love  can  accept,  for  there  is  no  love  in  them.  Fear  is 
barren;  Love  is  fruitful — like  the  two  mountains  of 
Samaria,  from  one  of  which  the  rolling  burden  of  the 
curses  of  the  Law  was  thundered,  and  from  the  other 
of  which  the  sweet  words  of  promise  and  of  blessing 
were  chanted  in  musical  response.  On  the  one  side 
are  black  rocks,  without  a  blade  of  grass  on  them,  the 
Mount  of  Cursing  ;  on  the  other  side  are  blushing 
grapes  and  vineyards,  the  Mount  of  Blessing.  Love 
moves  to  action,  fear  paralyses  into  indolence.  And 
the  reason  why  such  hosts  of  you  do  nothing  for  God 
is  because  your  hearts  have  never  been  touched  with 
the  thorough  conviction  that  He  has  done  everything 
for  you,  and  asks  you  but  to  love  Him  back  again,  and 
bring  Him  your  hearts.  These  dark  thoughts  are  like 
the  frost  which  binds  the  ground  in  iron  fetters, 
making  all  the  little  flowers  that  were  beginning  to 
push  their  heads  into  the  light  shrink  back  again.  And 
love,  when  it  comes,  will  come  like  the  west  wind  and 
the  sunshine  of  the  Spring ;  and  before  its  emancipat- 
ing fingers  the  earth's  fetters  will  be  cast  aside,  and 
the  white  snowdrops  and  the  yellow  crocuses  will  show 
themselves  above  the  ground.  If  you  want  your  hearts 
to  bear  any  fruit  of  noble  living,  and  holy  consecration, 


vs.  24,  25]     THE  KING  ON  HIS  THRONE      213 

and  pure  deeds,  then  here  is  the  process — Begin  with 
the  knowledge  and  belief  of  '  the  love  which  God  hath 
to  us ' ;  learn  that  at  the  Cross,  and  let  it  silence  your 
doubts,  and  send  them  back  to  their  kennels,  silenced. 
Then  take  the  next  step,  and  love  Him  back  again. 
•We  love  Him  because  He  first  loved  us.'  That  love 
will  be  the  productive  principle  of  all  glad  obedience, 
and  you  will  keep  His  commandments,  and  here  upon 
earth  find,  as  the  faithful  servant  found,  that  talents 
used  increase;  and  yonder  will  receive  the  eulogium 
from  His  lips  whom  to  please  is  blessedness,  by  whom 
to  be  praised  is  heaven's  glory, '  Well  done  !  good  and 
faithful  servant.' 


THE  KING  ON  HIS  JUDGMENT  THRONE 

*  When  the  Son  of  Man  shall  come  in  His  glory,  and  all  the  holy  angels  with 
Him,  then  shall  He  sit  upon  the  throne  of  His  glory :  32.  And  before  Him  shall  be 
gathered  all  nations :  and  He  shall  separate  them  one  from  another,  as  a  shepherd 
divideth  his  sheep  from  the  goats :  33.  And  He  shall  set  the  sheep  on  His  right 
hand,  but  the  goats  on  the  left.  34.  Then  shall  the  King  say  unto  them  on  Hia 
right  hand.  Come,  ye  blessed  of  My  Father,  inherit  the  Kingdom  prepared  for  you 
from  the  foundation  of  the  world :  35.  For  I  was  an  hnngred,  and  ye  gave  Me 
meat :  I  was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  Me  drink  :  I  was  a  stranger,  and  ye  took  Me  in : 
36.  Naked,  and  ye  clothed  Me  :  I  was  sick,  and  ye  visited  Me :  I  was  in  prison,  and 
ye  came  unto  Me.  37.  Then  shall  the  righteous  answer  Him,  saying.  Lord,  when  saw 
we  Thee  an  hungred,  and  fed  Thee  ?  or  thirsty,  and  gave  Thee  drink  ?  38.  When  saw 
we  Thee  a  stranger,  and  took  Thee  in  ?  or  naked,  and  clothed  Thee  ?  39.  Or  when 
saw  we  Thee  sick,  or  in  prison,  and  came  unto  Thee  ?  40.  And  the  King  shall  answer 
and  say  unto  them,  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of 
the  least  of  these  My  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  Me.  41.  Then  shall  He  say 
also  unto  them  on  the  left  hand.  Depart  from  Me,  ye  cursed,  into  everlasting  fire, 
prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels  :  42.  For  I  was  an  hungred,  and  ye  gave  Me 
no  meat :  I  was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  Me  no  drink :  43.  I  was  a  stranger,  and  ye 
took  Me  not  in :  naked,  and  ye  clothed  Me  not:  sick,  and  in  prison,  and  ye  visited 
Me  not.  44.  Then  shall  they  also  answer  Him,  saying,  Lord,  when  saw  we  Thee 
an  hungred,  or  athirst,  or  a  stranger,  or  naked,  or  sick,  or  in  prison,  and  did  nob 
minister  unto  Thee?  45.  Then  shall  He  answer  them,  saying.  Verily  I  say  unto 
you.  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  not  to  one  of  the  least  of  these,  ye  did  it  not  to  Me. 
46.  And  these  shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment :  but  the  righteous  into 
life  eternal.'— Matt.  xxv.  31-46. 

The  teachings  of  that  wonderful  last  day  of  Christ's 
ministry,  which  have  occupied  so  many  of  our  pages, 
are  closed  with  this  tremendous  picture  of  universal 


214     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     [ch.xxv. 

judgment.  It  is  one  to  be  gazed  upon  with  silent  awe, 
rather  than  to  be  commented  on.  There  is  fear  lest,  in 
occupying  the  mind  in  the  study  of  the  details,  and  try- 
ing to  pierce  the  mystery  it  partly  unfolds,  we  should 
forget  our  own  individual  share  in  it.  Better  to  burn 
in  on  our  hearts  the  thought,  *  I  shall  be  there,'  than  to 
lose  the  solemn  impression  in  efforts  to  unravel  the 
difficulties  of  the  passage.  Difficulties  there  are,  as  is 
to  be  expected  in  even  Christ's  revelation  of  so  un- 
paralleled a  scene.  Many  questions  are  raised  by  it 
which  will  never  be  solved  till  we  stand  there.  Who 
can  tell  how  much  of  the  parabolic  element  enters  into 
the  description  ?  We,  at  all  events,  do  not  venture  to 
say  of  one  part,  '  This  is  merely  drapery,  the  sensuous 
representation  of  spiritual  reality,'  and  of  another, 
•That  is  essential  truth.'  The  curtain  is  the  picture, 
and  before  we  can  separate  the  elements  of  it  in  that 
fashion,  we  must  have  lived  through  it.  Let  us  try 
to  grasp  the  main  lessons,  and  not  lose  the  spirit  in 
studying  the  letter. 

I.  The  first  broad  teaching  is  that  Christ  is  the  Judge 
of  all  the  earth.  Sitting  there,  a  wearied  man  on  the 
Mount  of  Olives,  with  the  valley  of  Jehoshaphat  at  His 
feet,  which  the  Jew  regarded  as  the  scene  of  the  final 
judgment,  Jesus  declared  Himself  to  be  the  Judge  of 
the  world,  in  language  so  unlimited  in  its  claims  that 
the  speaker  must  be  either  a  madman  or  a  god.  Cal- 
vary was  less  than  three  days  off,  when  He  spoke  thus. 
The  contrast  between  the  vision  of  the  future  and  the 
reality  of  the  present  is  overwhelming.  The  Son  of 
Man  has  come  in  weakness  and  shame ;  He  will  come 
in  His  glory,  that  flashing  light  of  the  self-revealing 
God,  of  which  the  symbol  was  the  '  glory '  which  shone 
between  the  cherubim,  and  which  Jesus  Christ  here 


vs.  31-46]     THE  KING  ON  HIS  THRONE      215 

asserts  to  belong  to  Him  as  ^  His  glory.'  Then,  heaven 
w^ill  be  emptied  of  its  angels,  v^ho  shall  gather  round 
the  enthroned  Judge  as  His  handful  of  sorrowing 
followers  were  clustered  round  Him  as  He  spoke,  or  as 
the  peasants  had  surrounded  the  meek  state  of  His 
entry  yesterday.  Then,  He  will  take  the  place  of  Judge, 
and  '  sit,'  in  token  of  repose,  supremacy,  and  judg- 
ment, '  on  the  throne  of  His  glory,'  as  He  now  sat  on 
the  rocks  of  Olivet.  Then,  mankind  shall  be  massed  at 
His  feet,  and  His  glance  shall  part  the  infinite  multi- 
tudes, and  discern  the  character  of  each  item  in  the 
crowd  as  easily  and  swiftly  as  the  shepherd's  eye  picks 
out  the  black  goats  from  among  the  white  sheep. 
Observe  the  difference  in  the  representation  from 
those  in  the  previous  parables.  There,  the  parting  of 
kinds  was  either  self-acting,  as  in  the  case  of  the  foolish 
maidens ;  or  men  gave  account  of  themselves,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  servants  with  the  talents.  Here,  the  separa- 
tion is  the  work  of  the  Judge,  and  is  completed  before 
a  word  is  spoken.  All  these  representations  must  be 
included  in  the  complete  truth  as  to  the  final  judg- 
ment. It  is  the  effect  of  men's  actions ;  it  is  the  result 
of  their  compelled  disclosing  of  the  deepest  motives  of 
their  lives;  it  is  the  act  of  the  perfect  discernment 
of  the  Judge.  Their  deeds  will  judge  them ;  they  will 
judge  themselves;  Christ  will  judge. 

Singularly  enough,  every  possible  interpretation  of 
the  extent  of  the  expression  '  all  nations '  has  found 
advocates.  It  has  been  taken  in  its  widest  and  plainest 
meaning,  as  equivalent  to  the  whole  race  ;  it  has  been 
confined  to  mankind  exclusive  of  Christians,  and  it  has 
been  confined  to  Christians  exclusive  of  heathens.  There 
are  difficulties  in  all  these  explanations,  but  probably  the 
least  are  found  in  the  first.    It  is  most  natural  to  suppose 


216     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW^   [ch.  xxv. 

that  *  all  nations '  means  all  nations,  unless  ?;haii  mean- 
ing be  impossible.  The  absence  of  the  limitalion  to  the 
'kingdom  of  heaven,'  which  distinguishes  this  section 
from  the  preceding  ones  having  reference  to  judgment, 
and  the  position  of  the  present  section  as  the  solemn  close 
of  Christ's  teachings,  which  would  naturally  widen  out 
into  the  declaration  of  the  universal  judgment,  which 
forms  the  only  appropriate  climax  and  end  to  the  fore- 
going teachings,  seem  to  point  to  the  widest  meaning 
of  the  phrase.  His  office  of  universal  Judge  is  unmis- 
takably taught  throughout  the  New  Testament,  and 
it  seems  in  the  highest  degree  unnatural  to  suppose 
that  He  did  not  speak  of  it  in  these  final  words  of  pro- 
phetic warning.  We  may  therefore,  with  some  confi- 
dence, see  in  the  magnificent  and  awful  picture  here 
drawn  the  vision  of  universal  judgment.  Parabolic 
elements  there  no  doubt  are  in  the  picture;  but  we 
have  no  governing  revelation,  free  from  these,  by 
which  we  can  check  them,  and  be  sure  of  how  much 
is  form  and  how  much  substance.  This  is  clear,  '  that 
we  must  all  appear  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ'; 
and  this  is  clear,  that  Jesus  Christ  put  forth,  when  at 
the  very  lowest  point  of  His  earthly  humiliation,  these 
tremendous  claims,  and  asserted  His  authority  as  Judge 
over  every  soul  of  man.  We  are  apt  to  lose  ourselves 
in  the  crowd.  Let  us  pause  and  think  that '  all '  includes 
'me.' 

II.  Note  the  principles  of  Christ's  universal  judgment. 
It  is  important  to  remember  that  this  section  closes  a 
series  of  descriptions  of  the  judgment,  and  must  not  be 
taken  as  if,  when  isolated,  it  set  forth  all  the  truth.  It 
is  often  harped  upon  by  persons  who  are  unfriendly  to 
evangelical  teaching,  as  if  it  were  Christ's  only  word 
about  judgment,  and  interpreted  as  if  it  meant  that, 


jm 


vs.  31-46]    THE  KING  ON  HIS  THRONE     217 

no  matter '^hiit  else  a  man  was,  if  only  he  is  charitable 
and  benoTolent,  he  will  find  mercy.  But  this  is  to 
forget  all  the  rest  of  our  Lord's  teaching  in  the  context, 
and  to  fly  in  the  face  of  the  whole  tenor  of  New  Testa- 
ment doctrine.  We  have  here  to  do  with  the  principles 
of  judgment  which  apply  equally  to  those  who  have, 
and  to  those  who  have  not,  heard  the  gospel.  The  sub- 
jects of  the  kingdom  are  shown  the  principles  more  im- 
mediately applicable  to  them,  in  the  previous  parables, 
and  here  they  are  reminded  that  there  is  a  standard 
of  judgment  absolutely  universal.  All  men,  whether 
Christians  or  not,  are  judged  by  *  the  things  done  in  the 
body,  whether  they  be  good  or  bad.'  So  Christ  teaches 
in  His  closing  words  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and 
in  many  another  place.  *  Every  tree  that  bringeth  not  ' 
forth  good  fruit  is  hewn  down,  and  cast  into  the  fire.' 
The  productive  source  of  good  works  is  not  in  question 
here ;  stress  is  laid  on  the  fruits,  rather  than  on  the 
root.  The  gospel  is  as  imperative  in  its  requirements 
of  righteousness  as  the  law  is,  and  its  conception  of  the 
righteousness  which  it  requires  is  far  deeper  and  wider. 
The  subjects  of  the  kingdom  ever  need  to  be  reminded 
of  the  solemn  truth  that  they  have  not  only,  like  the 
wise  maidens,  to  have  their  lights  burning  and  their 
oil  vessels  filled,  nor  only,  like  the  wise  servants,  to  be 
using  the  gifts  of  the  kingdom  for  their  lord,  but,  as 
members  of  the  great  family  of  man,  have  to  cultivate 
the  common  moralities  which  all  men,  heathen  and 
Christian,  recognise  as  binding  on  all,  without  which 
no  man  shall  see  the  Lord.  The  special  form  of 
righteousness  which  is  selected  as  the  test  is  charity. 
Obviously  it  is  chosen  as  representative  of  all  the 
virtues  of  the  second  table  of  the  law.  Taken  in  its 
bare  literality,  this  would  mean  that  men's  relations 


218     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxv. 

to  God  had  no  effect  in  the  judgment,  a  id  that  no 
other  virtues  but  this  of  charity  came  into  the  account. 
Such  a  conclusion  is  so  plainly  repugnant  to  all  Christ's 
teaching,  that  we  must  suppose  that  love  to  one's 
neighbour  is  here  singled  out,  just  as  it  is  in  His 
summary  of  '  the  law  and  the  prophets,'  as  the  crown 
and  flower  of  all  relative  duties,  and  as,  in  a  very  real 
sense,  being  '  the  fulfilling  of  the  law.'  The  omission  of 
any  reference  to  the  love  of  God  sufficiently  shows  that 
the  view  here  is  rigidly  limited  to  acts,  and  that  all  the 
grounds  of  judgment  are  not  meant  to  be  set  forth. 

But  the  benevolence  here  spoken  of  is  not  the  mere 
natural  sentiment,  which  often  exists  in  great  energy 
in  men  whose  moral  nature  is,  in  other  respects,  so 
utterly  un-Christlike  that  their  entrance  into  the 
kingdom  prepared  for  the  righteous  is  inconceivable. 
Many  a  man  has  a  hundred  vices  and  yet  a  soft  heart. 
It  is  very  much  a  matter  of  temperament.  Does  Christ 
so  contradict  all  the  rest  of  His  teaching  as  to  say  that 
such  a  man  is  of  '  the  sheep,'  and '  blessed  of  the  Father'  ? 
Surely  not.  Is  every  piece  of  kindliness  to  the  dis- 
tressed, from  whatever  motive,  and  by  whatsoever 
kind  of  person  done,  regarded  by  Him  as  done  to 
Himself  ?  To  say  so,  would  be  to  confound  moral  dis- 
-tinctions,  and  to  dissolve  all  righteousness  into  a  senti- 
mental syrup.  The  deeds  which  He  regards  as  done 
to  Himself,  are  done  to  His  '  brethren.'  That  expression 
carries  us  into  the  region  of  motive,  and  runs  parallel 
with  His  other  words  about  '  receiving  a  prophet,'  and 
*  giving  a  cup  of  cold  water  to  one  of  these  little  ones,' 
because  they  are  His.  Seeing  that  all  nations  are  at 
the  bar,  the  expression,  '  My  brethren,'  cannot  be  con- 
fined to  the  disciples,  for  many  of  those  who  are  being 
judged  have  never  come  in  contact  with  Christians, 


vs.  31-46]     THE  KING  ON  HIS  THRONE      219 

nor  can  it  be  reasonably  supposed  to  include  all  men, 
for,  however  true  it  is  that  Christ  is  every  man's 
brother,  the  recognition  of  kindred  here  must  surely 
be  confined  to  those  at  the  right  hand.  Whatever  be 
included  under  the  '  righteous,'  that  is  included  under 
the  'brethren.'  We  seem,  then,  led  to  recognise  in  the 
expression  a  reference  to  the  motive  of  the  beneficence, 
and  to  be  brought  to  the  conclusion  that  vrhat  the 
Judge  accepts  as  done  to  Himself  is  such  kindly  help 
and  sympathy  as  is  extended  to  these  His  kindred, 
with  some  recognition  of  their  character,  and  desire 
after  it.  To  '  receiv^e  a  prophet '  implies  that  there  is 
some  spiritual  affinity  with  him  in  the  receiver.  To 
give  help  to  His  brethren,  because  they  are  so,  implies 
some  affinity  with  Him  or  feeling  after  likeness  to  Him 
and  them.  Now,  if  we  hold  fast  by  the  universality 
of  the  judgment  here  depicted,  we  shall  see  that  this 
recognition  must  necessarily  have  different  degrees 
in  those  who  have  heard  of  Christ  and  in  those  who 
have  not.  In  the  former,  it  will  be  equivalent  to  that 
faith  which  is  the  root  of  all  goodness,  and  grasps  the 
Christ  revealed  in  the  gospel.  In  the  latter,  it  can  be 
no  more  than  a  feeling  after  Him  who  is  the  'light 
that  lighteneth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world.' 
Surely  there  are  souls  amid  the  darkness  of  heathenism 
yearning  toward  the  light,  like  plants  grown  in  the 
dark.  By  ways  of  His  own,  Christ  can  reach  such 
hearts,  as  the  river  of  the  water  of  life  may  percolate 
through  underground  channels  to  many  a  tree  which 
grows  far  from  its  banks. 

III.  Note  the  surprises  of  the  judgment.  The  aston- 
ishment of  the  righteous  is  not  modesty  disclaiming 
praise,  but  real  wonder  at  the  undreamed-of  signifi- 
cance of  their  deeds.     In  the  parable  of  the  talents, 


220     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW     T  i.  xxv. 

the  servants  unveiled  their  inmost  hearts,  and  accu- 
rately described  their  lives.  Here,  the  other  side  of 
the  truth  is  brought  into  prominence,  that,  at  that 
day,  we  shall  be  surprised  when  we  hear  from  His  lips 
what  we  have  really  done.  True  Christian  benefi- 
cence has  consciously  for  its  motive  the  pleasing  of 
Christ ;  but  still  he  who  most  earnestly  strove,  while 
here,  to  do  all  as  unto  Jesus,  will  be  full  of  thankful 
wonder  at  the  grace  which  accepts  his  poor  service, 
and  will  learn,  with  fresh  marvelling,  how  closely  He 
associates  Himself  with  His  humblest  servant.  There 
is  an  element  of  mystery  hidden  from  ourselves  in  all 
our  deeds.  Our  love  to  Christ's  followers  never  goes 
out  so  plainly  to  Him  that,  while  here,  we  can  venture 
to  be  sure  that  He  takes  it  as  done  for  Him.  We  cannot 
here  follow  the  flight  of  the  arrow,  nor  know  what 
meaning  He  will  attach  to,  or  what  large  issues  He  will 
evolve  from,  our  poor  doings.  So  heaven  will  be  full 
of  blessed  surprises,  as  we  reap  the  fruit  growing  *  in 
power '  of  what  we  sowed  *  in  weakness,'  and  as  doleful 
will  be  the  astonishment  which  will  seize  those  who 
see,  for  the  first  time,  in  the  lurid  light  of  that  day,  the 
true  character  of  their  lives,  as  one  long  neglect  of 
plain  duties,  which  was  all  a  defrauding  the  Saviour  of 
His  due.  Mere  doing  nothing  is  enough  to  condemn, 
and  its  victims  will  be  shudderingly  amazed  at  the 
fatal  wound  it  has  inflicted  on  them. 

IV.  The  irrevocableness  of  the  judgment.  That  is 
an  awful  contrast  between  the  '  Come !  ye  blessed,'  and 
'Depart!  ye  cursed.'  That  is  a  more  awful  parallel 
between  '  eternal  punishment '  and  '  eternal  life.'  It  is 
futile  to  attempt  to  alleviate  the  awfulness  by  empty- 
ing the  word  '  eternal '  of  reference  to  duration.  It  no 
doubt  connotes  quality,  but  its  first  meaning  is  ever- 


vs.  31-46]     UNCALCULATING  LOVE  221 

during.  There  is  nothing  here  to  suggest  that  the  one 
condition  is  more  terminable  than  the  other.  Rather, 
the  emphatic  repetition  of  the  word  brings  the  unend- 
ing continuance  of  each  into  prominence,  as  the  point 
in  which  these  two  states,  so  wofully  unlike,  are  the 
same.  In  whatever  other  passages  the  doctrine  of 
universal  restoration  may  seem  to  find  a  foothold, 
there  is  not  an  inch  of  standing-room  for  it  here. 
Reverently  accepting  Christ's  words  as  those  of  perfect 
and  infallible  love,  the  present  writer  feels  so  strongly 
the  difficulty  of  bringing  all  the  New  Testament  declara- 
tions on  this  dread  question  into  a  harmonious  whole, 
that  he  abjures  for  himself  dogmatic  certainty,  and 
dreads  lest,  in  the  eagerness  of  discussing  the  duration 
(which  will  never  be  beyond  the  reach  of  discussion), 
the  solemn  reality  of  the  fact  of  future  retribution 
should  be  dimmed,  and  men  should  argue  about  'the 
terror  of  the  Lord '  till  they  cease  to  feel  it. 


THE  DEFENCE  OF  UNCALCULATING  LOVE 

'Now  when  Jesus  was  in  Bethany,  in  the  house  of  Simon  the  leper,  7.  There  came 
unto  him  a  woman  having  an  alabaster  box  of  very  precious  ointment,  and  poured 
it  on  His  head,  as  He  sat  at  meat.  8.  But  when  His  disciples  saw  it,  they  had  in- 
dignation, saying.  To  what  purpose  is  this  waste?  9.  For  this  ointment  might  have 
been  sold  for  much,  and  given  to  the  poor.  10.  When  Jesus  understood  it,  He  said 
unto  them.  Why  trouble  ye  the  woman  ?  for  she  hath  wrought  a  good  work  upon 
Me.  11.  For  ye  have  the  poor  always  with  you  ;  but  Me  ye  have  not  always.  12. 
For  in  that  she  hath  poured  this  ointment  on  My  body,  she  did  it  for  My  burial. 
13.  Verily  I  say  unto  you.  Wheresoever  this  gospel  shall  be  preached  in  the 
whole  world,  there  shall  also  this,  that  this  woman  hath  done,  be  told  for  a 
memorial  of  her.  14.  Then  one  of  the  twelve,  called  Judas  Iscariot,  went  unto 
the  chief  priests,  15.  And  said  unto  them,  What  will  ye  give  me,  and  I  will  deliver 
Him  unto  you  ?  And  they  covenanted  with  him  for  thirty  pieces  of  silver.  16.  And 
from  that  time  he  sought  opportunity  to  betray  Him.'— Matt.  xxvi.  6-16. 

John  tells  us  that  the  *  woman '  was  Mary,  and  the 
objector  Judas.  Both  the  deed  and  the  cavil  are  better 
understood  by  knowing  whence  they  came.  Lazarus 
was  a  guest,  and  as  his  sister  saw  him  sitting  there  by 


222     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxvi. 

Jesus  her  heart  overflowed,  and  she  could  not  but 
catch  up  her  most  precious  possession,  and  lavish  it  on 
His  head  and  feet.  Love's  impulses  appear  absurd  to 
selfishness.  How  could  Judas  understand  Mary?  De- 
tracting comments  find  ready  ears.  One  sneer  will 
cool  down  to  contempt  and  blame  the  feelings  of  a 
company.  People  are  always  eager  to  pick  holes  in 
conduct  which  they  uneasily  feel  to  be  above  their 
own  reach.  Poor  Mary !  she  had  but  yielded  to  the 
uncalculating  impulse  of  her  great  love,  and  she  finds 
herself  charged  with  imprudence,  waste,  and  unfeeling 
neglect  of  the  poor.  No  wonder  that  her  gentle  heart 
was  '  troubled.'  But  Jesus  threw  the  shield  of  His 
approval  over  her,  and  that  was  enough.  Never  mind 
how  Judas  and  better  men  than  he  may  find  fault,  if 
Jesus  smiles  acceptance. 

His  great  words  set  forth,  first,  the  vindication  of 
the  act,  because  of  its  motive.  Anything  done  with  no 
regard  to  any  end  but  Himself  is,  in  His  eyes,  '  good.' 
The  perfection  of  conduct  is  that  it  shall  all  be  referred 
to  Jesus.  That  '  altar '  sanctifies  gift  and  giver.  Con- 
versely, whatever  has  no  reference  to  Him  lacks  the 
highest  beauty  of  goodness.  A  pebble  in  the  bed  of  a 
sunlit  stream  has  its  veins  of  colour  brought  out ;  lift 
it  out,  and,  as  it  dries,  it  dulls.  So  our  deeds  plunged 
into  that  great  river  are  heightened  in  loveliness. 
Everything  which  has  '  For  Christ's  sake  '  stamped  on 
it  is  thereby  hallowed.  That  is  the  unfailing  recipe 
for  making  a  life  fair.  Mary  was  thinking  only  of 
Jesus  and  of  her  love  to  Him,  therefore  what  she  did 
w^as  sweet  to  Him.  The  greater  part  of  a  deed  is  its 
motive,  and  the  perfect  motive  is  love  to  Jesus. 

But,  further,  Christ  defends  the  side  of  Mary's  deed 
which  the  critics  fastened  on.     They  posed  as  being 


vs.  6-16]       UNCALCULATING  LOVE  223 

more  practical  and  benevolent  than  she  was.  They 
were  utilitarians,  she  was  wasteful.  Their  objection 
sounds  sensible,  but  it  belongs  to  the  low  levels  of  life. 
One  flash  of  lofty  love  would  have  killed  it.  Christ's 
reply  to  it  draws  a  contrast  between  constant  duties 
and  special,  transient  moments.  It  is  coloured,  too, 
by  His  consciousness  of  His  near  end,  and  has  an  under- 
tone of  sadness  in  that  'Me  ye  have  not  always.' 
There  are  high  tides  of  Christian  emotion,  when  the 
question  of  what  good  this  thing  will  do  is  submerged, 
and  the  only  question  is,  'What  best  thing  shall 
I  render  to  the  Lord  ? '  The  critics  were  not  more 
beneficent,  but  less  inflamed  with  love  to  Jesus,  and  the 
leader  of  them  only  wished  that  the  proceeds  of  the 
ointment  had  come  into  his  hands,  where  some  of  it 
would  have  stuck.  We  hear  the  same  sort  of  taunt  to- 
day,— What  is  the  sense  of  all  this  money  being  spent 
on  missions  and  religious  objects  ?  How  much  more  use- 
ful it  would  be  if  expended  on  better  dwellings  for  the 
poor  or  hospitals  or  technical  schools !  But  there  is  a 
place  in  Christ's  treasury  for  useless  deeds,  if  they  are 
the  pure  expression  of  love  to  Him,  and  Mary's  alabaster 
box,  which  did  no  good  at  all,  lies  beside  the  cups  that 
held  cold  water  which  slaked  some  thirsty  lips.  Un- 
calculating  impulse,  which  only  knows  that  it  would 
fain  give  all  to  the  Lover  of  souls,  is  not  merely  excused, 
but  praised,  by  Jesus.  Lovers  on  earth  do  not  concern 
themselves  about  the  usefulness  of  their  gifts,  and  the 
divine  Lover  rejoices  over  what  cold-blooded  spectators, 
who  do  not  in  the  least  understand  the  ways  of  loving 
hearts,  find  useless  '  waste.'  The  world  would  put  all  the 
emotions  of  Christian  hearts,  and  all  the  heroisms  of 
Christian  martyrs,  and  all  the  sacrifices  of  Christian 
workers,  into  the  same  class.    Jesus  accepts  them  all. 


224     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

Again,  He  breathes  a  meaning  into  the  gift  beyond 
what  the  giver  meant.  Mary  did  not  regard  her  anoint- 
ing as  preparatory  to  His  burial,  but  He  had  His 
thoughts  fixed  on  it,  and  He  sought  to  prepare  the 
disciples  for  the  coming  storm.  How  far  away  from 
the  simple  festivities  in  Simon's  house  were  His 
thoughts  !  What  a  gulf  between  the  other  guests  and 
Him !  But  Jesus  always  puts  significance  into  the 
service  which  He  accepts,  and  surprises  the  givers  by 
the  far-reaching  issues  of  their  gifts.  We  know  not 
what  He  may  make  our  poor  deeds  mean.  Results  are 
beyond  our  vision.  Therefore  let  us  make  sure  of 
what  is  within  our  horizon — namely,  motives.  If  we 
do  anything  for  His  sake,  He  will  take  care  of  what  it 
comes  to.  That  is  true  even  on  earth,  and  still  more 
true  in  heaven.  '  Lord,  when  saw  we  Thee  an  hungred, 
and  fed  Thee?'  What  surprises  will  wait  Christ's 
humble  servants  in  heaven,  when  they  see  what  was 
the  true  nature  and  the  widespread  consequences  of 
their  humble  deeds !  '  Thou  sowest  not  that  body  that 
shall  be,  but  bare  grain,  .  .  .  but  God  giveth  it  a  body 
as  it  hath  pleased  Him.' 

Again,  Mark  gives  an  additional  clause  in  Christ's 
words,  which  brings  out  the  principle  that  the  measure 
of  acceptable  service  is  ability.  '  She  hath  done  what 
she  could '  is  an  apology,  or  rather  a  vindication,  for 
the  shape  of  the  gift.  Mary  was  not  practical,  and  could 
not  '  serve '  like  Martha ;  she  probably  had  no  other 
precious  thing  that  she  could  give,  but  she  could  love, 
and  she  could  bestow  her  best  on  Jesus.  But  the  say- 
ing implies  a  stringent  demand,  as  well  as  a  gracious 
defence.  Nothing  less  than  the  full  measure  of  ability 
is  the  measure  of  Christian  obligation.  Power  to  its 
last  particle  is  duty.     Jesus  does  not  ask  how  much 


vs.  6-16]         THE  NEW  PASSOVER  225 

His  servants  do  or  give,  but  He  does  ask  that  they 
should  do  and  give  all  that  they  can.  He  wishes  us  to 
be  ourselves  in  serving  Him,  and  to  shape  our  methods 
according  to  character  and  capabilities,  but  He  also 
wishes  us  to  give  Him  our  whole  selves.  If  anything 
is  kept  back,  all  that  is  given  is  marred. 

Jesus'  last  word  gives  perpetuity  to  the  service  which 
He  accepts.  Mary  is  promised  immortality  for  her 
deed,  and  the  promise  has  been  fulfilled,  and  here  are 
we,  all  these  centuries  after,  looking  at  her  as  she 
breaks  the  box  and  pours  it  on  His  head.  Jesus  is  not 
unrighteous  to  forget  any  work  of  love  done  for  Him. 
The  fragrance  of  the  ointment  soon  passed  away,  and 
the  shreds  of  the  broken  cruse  were  swept  into  the 
dust-bin,  with  the  other  relics  of  the  feast ;  but  all  the 
world  knows  of  that  act  of  all-surrendering  love,  and 
it  smells  sweet  and  blossoms  for  evermore. 


THE  NEW  PASSOVER 

'  JTow  the  first  day  of  the  feast  of  unleavened  bread  the  disciples  came  to  Jesns, 
saying  unto  Him,  \\Tiere  wilt  Thou  that  we  prepare  for  Thee  to  eat  the  passover? 
18.  And  He  said.  Go  into  the  city  to  such  a  man,  and  say  unto  him.  The  Master 
saith.  My  time  is  at  hand ;  I  will  keep  the  passover  at  thy  house  with  My  dis- 
ciples. 19.  And  the  disciples  did  as  Jesus  had  appointed  them  ;  and  they  made 
ready  the  passover.  20.  Now  when  the  even  was  come,  He  sat  down  with  the  twelve. 
21.  And  as  they  did  eat,  He  said,  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  That  one  of  you  shall 
betray  Me.  22.  And  they  were  exceeding  sorrowful,  and  began  every  one  of  them 
to  say  unto  Him,  Lord,  is  it  I?  23.  And  He  answered  and  said,  He  that  dippeth  his 
hand  with  Me  in  the  dish,  the  same  shall  betray  Me.  24.  The  Son  of  Man  goeth 
as  it  is  written  of  Him ;  but  woe  unto  that  man  by  whom  the  Son  of  Man  is 
betrayed  !  it  had  been  good  for  that  man  if  he  had  not  been  bom.  23.  Then  Judas, 
which  betrayed  Him,  answered  and  said,  Master,  is  it  I  ?  He  said  unto  him.  Thou 
hast  said.  26.  And  eis  they  were  eating,  Jesus  took  bread,  and  blessed  it,  and 
brake  it,  and  gave  it  to  the  disciples,  and  said.  Take,  eat ;  this  is  My  body.  27. 
And  He  took  the  cup,  and  gave  thanks,  and  gave  it  to  them,  saying.  Drink  ye  all 
of  it ;  28.  For  this  is  My  blood  of  the  new  testament,  which  is  shed  for  many  for 
the  remission  of  sins.  29.  But  I  say  unto  you,  I  will  not  drink  henceforth  of  this 
fruit  of  the  vine,  until  that  day  when  I  drink  it  new  with  you  in  "Sir  Father's 
kingdom.  30.  And  when  they  had  sung  an  hymn,  they  went  out  into  the  Mount 
of  Olives.'— Matt.  xxvL  17-30. 

The  Tuesday  of  Passion    Week  was  occupied  by  the 
wonderful  discourses  which  have  furnished  so  many 
VOL.  III.  p 


226     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

of  our  meditations.  At  its  close  Jesus  sought  retirement 
in  Bethany,  not  only  to  soothe  and  prepare  His  spirit, 
but  to  '  hide  Himself '  from  the  Sanhedrin.  There  He 
spent  the  Wednesday.  Who  can  imagine  His  thoughts  ? 
While  He  was  calmly  reposing  in  Mary's  quiet  home, 
the  rulers  determined  on  His  arrest,  but  were  at  a 
loss  how  to  effect  it  without  a  riot.  Judas  comes  to 
them  opportunely,  and  they  leave  it  to  him  to  give 
the  signal.  Possibly  we  may  account  for  the  peculiar 
secrecy  observed  as  to  the  place  for  the  last  supper, 
by  our  Lord's  knowledge  that  His  steps  were  watched, 
and  by  His  earnest  wish  to  eat  the  Passover  with  the 
disciples  before  He  suffered.  The  change  between  the 
courting  of  publicity  and  almost  inviting  of  arrest  at 
the  beginning  of  the  week,  and  the  evident  desire  to 
.  postpone  the  crisis  till  the  fitting  moment  which  marks 
the  close  of  it,  is  remarkable,  and  most  naturally 
explained  by  the  supposition  that  He  wished  the  time 
of  His  death  to  be  that  very  hour  when,  according  to 
law,  the  paschal  lamb  was  slain.  On  the  Thursday, 
then,  he  sent  Peter  and  John  into  the  city  to  prepare 
the  Passover;  the  others  being  in  ignorance  of  the 
place  till  they  were  there,  and  Judas  being  thus  pre- 
vented from  carrying  out  his  purpose  till  after  the 
celebration. 

The  precautions  taken  to  ensure  this  have  left  their 
mark  on  Matthew's  narrative,  in  the  peculiar  designa- 
tion of  the  host, — '  Such  a  man ! '  It  is  a  kind  of  echo  of 
the  mystery  which  he  so  well  remembered  as  round 
the  errand  of  the  two.  He  does  not  seem  to  have 
heard  of  the  token  by  which  they  knew  the  house,  viz., 
the  man  with  the  pitcher  whom  they  were  to  meet. 
But  he  does  know  that  Peter  and  John  got  secret 
instructions,  and   that    he    and  the  others    wondered 


vs.  17-30]        THE  NEW  PASSOVER  227 

where  they  were  to  go.  Had  there  been  a  previous 
arrangement  with  this  unnamed  '  such  an  one,'  or  were 
the  token  and  the  message  alike  instances  of  Christ's 
supernatural  knowledge  and  authority?  It  is  difficult 
to  say.  I  incline  to  the  former  supposition,  which 
would  be  in  accordance  with  the  distinct  effort  after 
secrecy  which  marks  these  days ;  but  the  narratives 
do  not  decide  the  question.  At  all  events,  the  host 
was  a  disciple,  as  appears  from  the  authoritative  '  the 
Master  saith ' ;  and,  whether  he  had  known  beforehand 
that '  this  day '  incarnate  '  salvation  would  come  to  his 
house'  or  no,  he  eagerly  accepts  the  peril  and  the  honour. 
The  message  is  royal  in  its  tone.  The  Lord  does  not 
ask  permission,  but  issues  His  commands.  But  He  is  a 
pauper  King,  not  having  where  to  lay  His  head,  and 
needing  another  man's  house  in  which  to  gather  His 
own  household  together  for  the  family  feast  of  the  Pass- 
over. What  profound  truths  are  wrapped  up  in  that 
'  My  time  is  come ' !  It  speaks  of  the  voluntariness  of 
His  surrender,  the  consciousness  that  His  Cross  was  the 
centre  point  of  His  work.  His  superiority  to  all  external 
influences  as  determining  the  hour  of  His  death,  and 
His  submission  to  the  supreme  appointment  of  the 
Father.  Obedience  and  freedom,  choice  and  necessity, 
are  wonderfully  blended  in  it. 

So,  late  on  that  Thursday  evening,  the  little  band 
left  Bethany  for  the  last  time,  in  a  fashion  very  unlike 
the  joyous  stir  of  the  triumphal  entry.  As  the  evening 
is  falling,  they  thread  their  way  through  the  noisy 
streets,  all  astir  with  the  festal  crowds,  and  reach  the 
upper  room,  Judas  vainly  watching  for  an  opportunity  to 
slip  away  on  his  black  errand.  The  chamber,  prepared 
by  unknown  hands,  has  vanished,  and  the  hands  are 
dust ;  but  both  are  immortal.    How  many  of  the  living 


228     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

acts  of  His  servants  in  like  manner  seem  to  perish,  and 
the  doers  of  them  to  be  forgotten  or  unknown !  But  He 
knows  the  name  of  '  such  an  one,'  and  does  not  forget 
that  he  opened  his  door  for  Him  to  enter  in  and  sup. 

The  fact  that  Jesus  put  aside  the  Passover  and 
founded  the  Lord's  Supper  in  its  place,  tells  much  both 
about  His  authority  and  its  meaning.  What  must  He 
have  conceived  of  Himself,  who  bade  Jew  and  Gentile 
turn  away  from  that  God-appointed  festival,  and  think 
not  of  Moses,  but  of  Him?  What  did  He  mean  by 
setting  the  Lord's  Supper  in  the  place  of  the  Passover, 
if  He  did  not  mean  that  He  was  the  true  Paschal  Lamb, 
that  His  death  was  a  true  sacrifice,  that  in  His  sprinkled 
blood  was  safety,  that  His  death  inaugurated  the  better 
deliverance  of  the  true  Israel  from  a  darker  prison- 
house  and  a  sorer  bondage,  that  His  followers  were  a 
family,  and  that '  the  children's  bread'  was  the  sacrifice 
which  He  had  made  ?  There  are  many  reasons  for  the 
doubling  of  the  commemorative  emblem,  but  this  is  ob- 
viously one  of  the  chief — that,  by  the  separation  of  the 
two  in  the  rite,  we  are  carried  back  to  the  separation 
in  fact ;  that  is  to  say,  to  the  violent  death  of  Christ. 
Not  His  flesh  alone,  in  the  sense  of  Incarnation,  but 
His  body  broken  and  His  blood  shed,  are  what  He  wills 
should  be  for  ever  remembered.  His  own  estimate  of 
the  centre  point  of  His  work  is  unmistakably  pro- 
nounced in  His  institution  of  this  rite. 

But  we  may  consider  the  force  of  each  emblem 
separately.  In  many  important  points  they  mean  the 
same  things,  but  they  have  each  their  own  significance 
as  well.  Matthew's  condensed  version  of  the  words  of 
institution  omits  all  reference  to  the  breaking  of  the 
body  and  to  the  memorial  character  of  the  observance, 
but  both  are  implied.     He  emphasises  the  reception, 


vs.  17-30]        THE  NEW  PASSOVER  229 

the  participation,  and  the  significance  of  the  bread. 
As  to  the  latter,  '  This  is  My  body '  is  to  be  understood 
in  the  same  way  as  'the  field  is  the  world,' and  many 
other  sayings.  To  speak  in  the  language  of  gram- 
marians, the  copula  is  that  of  symbolic  relationship, 
not  that  of  existence ;  or,  to  speak  in  the  language  of 
the  street,  'is*  here  means,  as  it  often  does,  'represents.' 
How  could  it  mean  anything  else,  when  Christ  sat 
there  in  His  body,  and  His  blood  was  in  His  veins? 
What,  then,  is  the  teaching  of  this  symbol  ?  It  is  not 
merely  that  He  in  His  humanity  is  the  bread  of  life, 
but  that  He  in  His  death  is  the  nourishment  of  our 
true  life.  In  that  great  discourse  in  John's  Gospel, 
which  embodies  in  words  the  lessons  which  the  Lord's 
Supper  teaches  by  symbols.  He  advances  from  the 
general  statement,  '  I  am  the  Bread  of  Life,'  to  the  yet 
more  mysterious  and  profound  teaching  that  His  flesh, 
which  at  some  then  future  point  He  will '  give  for  the 
life  of  the  world,'  is  the  bread ;  thus  distinctly  fore- 
shadowing His  death,  and  asserting  that  by  that  death 
we  live,  and  by  partaking  of  it  are  nourished.  The 
participation  in  the  benefits  of  Christ's  death,  which  is 
symbolised  by  '  Take,  eat,'  is  effected  by  living  faith. 
We  feed  on  Christ  when  our  minds  are  occupied  with  His 
truth,  and  our  hearts  nourished  by  Hib  love,  when  it  is 
the  '  meat '  of  our  wills  to  do  His  will,  and  when  our 
whole  inward  man  fastens  on  Him  as  its  true  object, 
and  draws  from  Him  its  best  being.  But  the  act  of 
reception  teaches  the  great  lesson  that  Christ  must  be 
in  us,  if  He  is  to  do  us  any  good.  He  is  not '  for  us '  in 
any  real  sense,  unless  He  be  '  in  us.'  The  v  ord  rendered 
in  John's  Gospel  '  eateth '  is  that  used  for  the  rumin- 
ating of  cattle,  and  wonderfully  indicates  the  calm, 
continual,  patient  meditation  by  which  alone  we  can 


230    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

receive  Christ  into  our  hearts,  and  nourish  our  lives  on 
Him.  Bread  eaten  is  assimilated  to  the  body,  but  this 
bread  eaten  assimilates  the  eater  to  itself,  and  he  vrho 
feeds  on  Christ  becomes  Christ-like,  as  the  silk-worm 
takes  the  hue  of  the  leaves  on  which  it  browses.  Bread 
eaten  to-day  will  not  nourish  us  to-morrow,  neither  will 
past  experiences  of  Christ's  sweetness  sustain  the  soul. 
He  must  be  '  our  daily  bread '  if  we  are  not  to  pine 
with  hunger. 

The  wine  carries  its  own  special  teaching,  which 
clearly  appears  in  Matthew's  version  of  the  words  of 
institution.  It  is  '  My  blood,'  and  by  its  being  presented 
in  a  form  separate  from  the  bread  which  is  His  body 
suggests  a  violent  death.  It  is  'covenant  blood,'  the 
seal  of  that '  better  covenant '  than  the  old,  which  God 
makes  now  with  all  mankind,  wherein  are  given  renewed 
hearts  which  carry  the  divine  law  within  themselves ; 
the  reciprocal  and  mutually  blessed  possession  of  God 
by  men  and  of  men  by  God,  the  universally  diffused 
knowledge  of  God,  which  is  more  than  head  knowledge, 
being  the  consciousness  of  possessing  Him ;  and,  finally, 
the  oblivion  of  all  sins.  These  promises  are  fulfilled, 
and  the  covenant  made  sure,  by  the  shed  blood  of 
Christ.  So,  finally,  it  is  *  shed  for  many,  for  the  remis- 
sion of  sins.'  l-he  end  of  Christ's  death  is  pardon, 
which  can  only  be  extended  on  the  ground  of  His  death. 
We  are  told  that  Christ  did  not  teach  the  doctrine  of 
atonement.  Did  He  establish  the  Lord's  Supper?  If 
He  did  (and  nobody  denies  that),  what  did  He  mean  by 
it,  if  He  did  not  mean  the  setting  forth  by  symbol  of 
the  very  same  truth  which,  stated  in  words,  is  the 
doctrine  of  IJis  atoning  death?  This  rite  does  not, 
indeed,  explain  the  rationale  of  the  doctrine ;  but  it  is 
a  piece  of  unmeaning  mummery,   unless  it  preaches 

/ 


vs.  17-30]       THE  NEW  PASSOVER  231 

plainly  the  fact  that  Christ's  death  is  the  ground  of 
our  forgiveness. 

Bread  is  the  '  staff  of  life,'  but  blood  is  the  life.  So 
'this  cup'  teaches  that  'the  life'  of  Jesus  Christ  must 
pass  into  His  people's  veins,  and  that  the  secret  of  the 
Christian  life  is  '  I  live ;  yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in 
me.'  Wine  is  joy,  and  the  Christian  life  is  not  only  to 
be  a  feeding  of  the  soul  on  Christ  as  its  nourishment, 
but  a  glad  partaking,  as  at  a  feast,  of  His  life  and 
therein  of  His  joy.  Gladness  of  heart  is  a  Christian 
duty,  '  the  joy  of  the  Lord  is  your  strength  '  and  should 
be  our  joy ;  and  though  here  we  eat  with  loins  girt, 
and  go  out,  some  of  us  to  deny,  some  of  us  to  flee,  all 
of  us  to  toil  and  suffer,  yet  we  may  have  His  joy  ful- 
filled in  ourselves,  even  whilst  we  sorrow. 

The  Lord's  Supper  is  predominantly  a  memorial,  but 
it  is  also  a  prophecy,  and  is  marked  as  such  by  the 
mysterious  last  words  of  Jesus,  about  drinking  the 
new  wine  in  the  Father's  kingdom.  They  point  the 
thoughts  of  the  saddened  eleven,  on  whom  the  dark 
shadow  of  parting  lay  heavily,  to  an  eternal  reunion, 
in  a  land  where  '  all  things  are  become  new,'  and  where 
the  festal  cup  shall  be  filled  with  a  draught  that  has 
power  to  gladden  and  to  inspire  beyond  any  experience 
here.  The  joys  of  heaven  will  be  so  far  analogous  to 
the  Christian  joys  of  earth  that  the  same  name  may 
be  applied  to  both ;  but  they  will  be  so  unlike  that 
the  old  name  will  need  a  new  meaning,  and  communion 
with  Christ  at  His  table  in  His  kingdom,  and  our 
exuberance  of  joy  in  the  full  drinking  in  of  His 
immortal  life,  will  transcend  the  selectest  hours  of 
communion  here.  Compared  with  that  fulness  of  joy 
they  will  be  'as  water  unto  wine,' — the  new  wine  of 
the  kingdom. 


*IS  IT  I?' 

'  And  they  were  exceeding  sorrowful,  and  began  every  one  of  them  to  say  unto 
Him,  Lord,  is  it  I?  25.  Then  Judas,  which  betrayed  Him,  answered  and  said. 
Master,  is  it  I?    He  said  unto  him.  Thou  hast  said.'— Matt.  xxvi.  22,  25. 

'He  then  lying  on  Jesus'  breast  saith  unto  Him,  Lord,  who  is  it?'— John 
xiii.  25. 

The  genius  of  many  great  painters  has  portrayed  the 
Lord's  Supper,  but  the  reality  of  it  was  very  different 
from  their  imaginings.  We  have  to  picture  to  ourselves 
some  low  table,  probably  a  mere  tray  spread  upon  the 
ground,  round  which  our  Lord  and  the  twelve  reclined, 
in  such  a  fashion  as  that  the  head  of  each  guest  came 
against  the  bosom  of  him  that  reclined  above  him ;  the 
place  of  honour  being  at  the  Lord's  left  hand,  or  higher 
up  the  table  than  Himself,  and  the  second  place  being 
at  His  right,  or  below  Himself. 

So  there  would  be  no  eager  gesticulations  of  disciples 
starting  to  their  feet  when  our  Lord  uttered  the  sad 
announcement,  *  One  of  you  shall  betray  Me ! '  but  only 
horror-struck  amazement  settled  down  upon  the  group. 
These  verses,  which  we  have  put  together,  show  us 
three  stages  in  the  conversation  which  followed  the 
sad  announcement.  The  three  evangelists  give  us  two 
of  these ;  John  alone  omits  these  two,  and  only  gives 
us  the  third. 

First,  we  have  their  question,  born  of  a  glimpse 
into  the  possibilities  of  evil  in  their  hearts,  '  Lord, 
is  it  I  ? ' 

The  form  of  that  question  in  the  original  suggests 
that  they  expected  a  negative  answer,  and  might  be 
reproduced  in  English:  'Surely  it  is  not  I?'  None  of 
them  could  think  that  he  was  the  traitor,  yet  none  of 

232 


T8.22,25]  *IS   IT   I?'  233 

them  could  be  sure  that  he  was  not.  Their  Master 
knew  better  than  they  did;  and  so,  from  a  humble 
knowledge  of  what  lay  in  them,  coiled  and  slumbering, 
but  there,  thev  would  not  meet  His  words  with  a  con- 
tradiction,  but  with  a  question.  His  answer  spares  the 
betrayer,  and  lets  the  dread  work  in  their  consciences 
for  a  little  longer,  for  their  good.  For  many  hands 
dipped  in  the  dish  together,  to  moisten  their  morsels ; 
and  to  say,  '  He  that  dippeth  with  Me  in  the  dish,  the 
same  shall  betray  Me,'  was  to  say  nothing  more  than 

•  One  of  you  at  the  table.' 

Then  comes  the  second  stage.  Judas,  reassured  that 
he  has  escaped  detection  for  the  moment,  and  perhaps 
doubting  whether  the  Master  had  anything  more  than 
a  yagne  suspicion  of  treachery,  or  kne^r  who  was  the 
traitor,  shapes  his  lying  lips  with  loathsome  audacity 
into  the  same  question,  but  yet  not  quite  the  same. 
The  others  had  said,  '  Is  it  I,  Lord  ? '  he  falters  when  he 
comes  to  that  name,  and  dare  not  say  'Lord I'  That 
sticks  in  his  throat.     *  Rabbi ! '  is  as  far  as  he  can  get. 

*  Is  it  I,  Rabbi?'  Christ's  answer  to  him.  'Thou  hast 
said,'  is  another  instance  of  patient  longsuffering.  It 
was  evidently  a  whisper  that  did  not  reach  the  ears  of 
any  of  the  others,  for  he  leaves  the  room  without  sus- 
picion. Our  Lord  still  tries  to  save  him  from  himself 
by  showing  Judas  that  his  purpose  is  known,  and  by 
still  concealing  his  name. 

Then  comes  the  third  stage,  which  we  owe  to  John's 
GospeL  Here  again  he  is  true  to  his  task  of  supple- 
menting the  narrative  of  the  three  synoptic  Gospels. 
Remembering  what  I  have  said  about  the  attitude  of 
the  disciples  at  the  table,  we  can  understand  that  Peter, 
if  he  occupied  the  principal  place  at  the  Lord's  left,  was 
less  favourably  situated  for  speaking  to  Christ   than 


234    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

John,  who  reclined  in  the  second  seat  at  His  right,  and 
so  he  beckoned  over  the  Master's  head  to  John.  The 
Revised  Version  gives  the  force  of  the  original  more 
vividly  than  the  Authorised  does :  '  He,  leaning  back, 
as  he  was,  on  Jesus'  breast,  saith  unto  Him,  Lord ! 
who  is  it?'  John,  with  a  natural  movement,  bends 
back  his  head  on  his  Master's  breast,  so  as  to  ask  and  be 
answered,  in  a  whisper.  His  question  is  not,  'Is  it  I ?' 
He  that  leaned  on  Christ's  bosom,  and  was  compassed 
about  by  Christ's  love,  did  not  need  to  ask  that.  The 
question  now  is,  '  Who  is  it  ? '  Not  a  question  of  pre- 
sumption, nor  of  curiosity,  but  of  affection  ;  and  there- 
fore answered  :  '  He  it  is  to  whom  I  shall  give  the  sop, 
when  I  have  dipped  it.' 

The  morsel  dipped  in  the  dish  and  passed  by  the  host's 
hand  to  a  guest,  was  a  token  of  favour,  of  unity  and 
confidence.  It  was  one  more  attempt  to  save  Judas, 
one  more  token  of  all-forgiving  patience.  No  wonder 
that  that  last  sign  of  friendship  embittered  his  hatred 
and  sharpened  his  purpose  to  an  unalterable  decision, 
or,  as  John  says  :  '  After  the  sop,  Satan  entered  into 
him.'  For  then,  as  ever,  the  heart  which  is  not  melted 
by  Christ's  offered  love  is  hardened  by  it. 

Now,  if  we  take  these  three  stages  of  this  conversa- 
tion we  may  learn  some  valuable  lessons  from  them. 
I  take  the  first  form  of  the  question  as  an  example  of 
that  wholesome  self-distrust  which  a  glimpse  into  the 
slumbering  possibilities  of  evil  in  our  hearts  ought  to 
give  us  all.  I  take  the  second  on  the  lips  of  Judas,  as 
an  example  of  the  very  opposite  of  that  self-distrust, 
the  fixed  determination  to  do  a  wrong  thing,  however 
clearly  we  know  it  to  be  wrong.  And  I  take  the  last 
form  of  the  question,  as  asked  by  John,  as  an  illustra- 
tion of  the  peaceful  confidence  which  comes  from  the 


vs.  22, 25]  'IS  IT  I?*  235 

consciousness  of  Christ's  love,  and  of  communion  with 
Him.    Now  a  word  or  two  about  each  of  these. 

I.  First,  we  have  an  example  of  that  wholesome  self- 
distrust,  which  a  glimpse  into  the  possibilities  of  evil 
that  lie  slumbering  in  all  our  hearts  ought  to  teach 
every  one  of  us. 

Every  man  is  a  mystery  to  himself.  In  every  soul 
there  lie,  coiled  and  dormant,  like  hibernating  snakes, 
evils  that  a  very  slight  rise  in  the  temperature  will 
wake  up  into  poisonous  activity.  And  let  no  man 
say,  in  foolish  self-confidence,  that  any  form  of  sin 
which  his  brother  has  ever  committed  is  impossible 
for  him.  Temperament  shields  us  from  much,  no 
doubt.  There  are  sins  that  'we  are  inclined  to,'  and 
there  are  sins  that  *we  have  no  mind  to.'  But  the 
identity  of  human  nature  is  deeper  than  the  diver- 
sity of  temperament,  and  there  are  two  or  three  con- 
siderations that  should  abate  a  man's  confidence  that 
anything  which  one  man  has  done  it  is  impossible  that 
he  should  do.  Let  me  enumerate  them  very  briefly. 
Remember,  to  begin  with,  that  all  sins  are  at  bottom 
but  varying  forms  of  one  root.  The  essence  of  every 
evil  is  selfishness,  and  when  you  have  that,  it  is  exactly 
as  with  cooks  who  have  the  '  stock '  by  the  fireside. 
They  can  make  any  kind  of  soup  out  of  it,  with  the 
right  flavouring.  We  have  got  the  mother  tincture 
of  all  wickedness  in  each  of  our  hearts  ;  and  therefore 
do  not  let  us  be  so  sure  that  it  cannot  be  manipulated 
and  flavoured  into  any  form  of  sin.  All  sin  is  one  at 
bottom,  and  this  is  the  definition  of  it — living  to  myself 
instead  of  living  to  God.  So  it  may  easily  pass  from 
one  form  of  evil  into  another,  just  as  light  and  heat, 
motion  and  electricity,  are  all — they  tell  us — various 
forms  and  phases  of  one  force.    Just  as  doctors  will 


236    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxvi. 

tell  you  that  there  are  types  of  disease  which  slip  from 
one  form  of  sickness  into  another,  so  if  we  have  got  the 
infection  about  us  it  is  a  matter  very  much  of  acci- 
dental circumstances  what  shape  it  takes.  And  no  man 
with  a  human  heart  is  safe  in  pointing  to  any  sin,  and 
saying,  '  That  form  of  transgression  I  reckon  alien  to 
myself.' 

And  then  let  me  remind  you,  too,  that  the  same  con- 
sideration is  reinforced  by  this  other  fact,  that  all  sin 
is,  if  I  may  so  say,  gregarious ;  is  apt  not  only  to  slip 
from  one  form  into  another,  but  that  any  evil  is  apt  to 
draw  another  after  it.  The  tangled  mass  of  sin  is  like 
one  of  those  great  fields  of  seaweed  that  you  some- 
times come  across  upon  the  ocean,  all  hanging  together 
by  a  thousand  slimy  growths ;  which,  if  lifted  from  the 
wave  at  any  point,  drags  up  yards  of  it  inextricably 
grown  together.  No  man  commits  only  one  kind  of 
transgression.  All  sins  hunt  in  couples.  According  to 
the  grim  picture  of  the  Old  Testament,  about  another 
matter, '  None  of  them  shall  want  his  mate.  The  wild 
beasts  of  the  desert  shall  meet  with  the  wild  beasts  of 
the  islands.'  One  sin  opens  the  door  for  another,  'and 
seven  other  spirits  worse  than  himself '  come  and  make 
holiday  in  the  man's  heart. 

Again,  any  evil  is  possible  to  us,  seeing  that  all  sin 
is  but  yielding  to  tendencies  common  to  us  all.  The 
greatest  transgressions  have  resulted  from  yielding  to 
such  tendencies.  Cain  killed  his  brother  from  jealousy ; 
David  besmirched  his  name  and  his  reign  by  animal 
passion;  Judas  betrayed  Christ  because  he  was  fond 
of  money.  Many  a  man  has  murdered  another  one 
simply  because  he  had  a  hot  temper.  And  you  have 
got  a  temper,  and  you  have  got  the  love  of  money, 
and  you  have  got  animal  passions,  and  you  have  got 


vs.  22, 25]  *IS   IT  I?'  237 

that  which  may  stir  you  up  into  jealousy.  Your 
neighbour's  house  has  caught  fire  and  been  blown  up. 
Your  house,  too,  is  built  of  wood,  and  thatched  with 
straw,  and  you  have  as  much  dynamite  in  your  cellars 
as  he  had  in  his.  Do  not  be  too  sure  that  you  are 
safe  from  the  danger  of  explosion. 

And,  again,  remember  that  this  same  wholesome  self- 
distrust  is  needful  for  us  all,  because  all  transgression 
is  yielding  to  temptations  that  assail  all  men.  Here  X 
are  one  hundred  men  in  a  plague-stricken  city ;  they 
have  all  got  to  draw  their  water  from  the  same  well. 
If  five  or  six  of  them  died  of  cholera  it  would  be  very 
foolish  of  the  other  ninety-five  to  say,  *  There  is  no 
chance  of  our  being  touched.'  We  all  live  in  the  same 
atmosphere;  and  the  temptations  that  have  over- 
come the  men  that  have  headed  the  count  of  crimes 
appeal  to  you.  So  the  lesson  is, '  Be  not  high-minded, 
but  fear.' 

And  remember,  still  further,  that  the  same  solemn 
consideration  is  enforced  upon  us  by  the  thought  that 
men  will  gradually  drop  down  to  the  level  which, 
before  they  began  the  descent,  seemed  to  be  impossible 
to  them.  '  Is  thy  servant  a  dog  that  he  should  do  this 
thing?'  said  Hazael  when  the  crime  of  murdering  his 
master  first  floated  before  him.  Yes,  but  he  did  it. 
By  degrees  he  came  down  to  the  level  to  which  he 
thought  that  he  would  never  sink.  First  the  imagina- 
tion is  inflamed,  then  the  wish  begins  to  draw  the  soul 
to  the  sin,  then  conscience  pulls  it  back,  then  the  fatal 
decision  is  made,  and  the  deed  is  done.  Sometimes  all 
the  stages  are  hurried  quickly  through,  and  a  man 
spins  downhill  as  cheerily  and  fast  as  a  diligence 
down  the  Alps.  Sometimes,  as  the  coast  of  a  country 
may  sink  an  inch  in  a  century  until  long  miles  of  the 


238     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxv 


■r 


flat  seabeach  are  under  water,  and  towers  and  citiet 
are  buried  beneath  the  barren  waves,  so  our  lives  may 
be  gradually  lowered,  with  a  motion  imperceptible  but 
most  real,  bringing  us  down  within  high-water  mark, 
and  at  last  the  tide  may  wash  over  what  was  solid 
land. 

So,  dear  friends,  there  is  nothing  more  foolish  than 
for  any  man  to  stand,  self-confident  that  any  form  of 
evil  that  has  conquered  his  brother  has  no  temptation 
for  him.  It  may  not  have  for  you,  under  present 
circumstances;  it  may  not  have  for  you  to-day;  but, 
oh!  we  have  all  of  us  one  human  heart,  and  'he 
that  trusteth  in  his  own  heart  is  a  fool.'  'Blessed 
is  the  man  that  feareth  always.'  Humble  self- 
distrust,  consciousness  of  sleeping  sin  in  my  heart 
that  may  very  quickly  be  stirred  into  stinging  and 
striking ;  rigid  self-control  over  all  these  possibilities 
of  evil,  are  duties  dictated  by  the  plainest  common- 
sense. 

Do  not  say,  'I  know  when  to  stop.'  Do  not  say,  *! 
can  go  so  far;  it  will  not  do  me  any  harm.'  Many  a 
man  has  said  that,  and  many  a  man  has  been  ruined 
by  it.  Do  not  say,  '  It  is  natural  to  me  to  have  these 
inclinations  and  tastes,  and  there  can  be  no  harm  in 
yielding  to  them.'  It  is  perfectly  natural  for  a  man  to 
stoop  down  over  the  edge  of  a  precipice  to  gather  the 
flowers  that  are  growing  in  some  cranny  in  the  cliff ; 
and  it  is  as  natural  for  him  to  topple  over,  and  be 
smashed  to  a  mummy  at  the  bottom.  God  gave  you 
your  dispositions  and  your  whole  nature  'under  lock 
and  key,' — keep  them  so.  And  when  you  hear  of,  or 
see,  great  criminals  and  great  crimes,  say  to  yourself, 
as  the  good  old  Puritan  divine  said,  looking  at  a  man 
going  to  the  scaffold,  '  But  for  the  grace  of  God  there 


vs.  22, 25]  'IS  IT  I?'  239 

go  I ! '  And  in  the  contemplation  of  sins  and  apostasies, 
let  us  each  look  humbly  at  our  own  weakness,  and 
pray  Him  to  keep  us  from  our  brother's  evils  which 
may  easily  become  ours. 

II.  Secondly,  we  have  here  an  example  of  precisely 
the  opposite  sort,  namely,  of  that  fixed  determination 
to  do  evil  which  is  unshaken  by  the  clearest  know- 
ledge that  it  is  evil. 

Judas  heard  his  crime  described  in  its  own  ugly 
reality.  He  heard  his  fate  proclaimed  by  lips  of 
absolute  love  and  truth;  and  notwithstanding  both, 
he  comes  unmoved  and  unshaken  with  his  question. 
The  dogged  determination  in  his  heart,  that  dares  to 
see  his  evil  stripped  naked  and  is  'not  ashamed,*  is 
even  more  dreadful  than  the  hypocrisy  and  sleek  simu- 
lation of  friendship  in  his  face. 

Now  most  men  turn  away  with  horror  from  even  the 
sins  that  they  are  willing  to  do,  when  they  are  put 
plainly  and  bluntly  before  them.  As  an  old  mediaeval 
preacher  once  said,  '  There  is  nothing  that  is  weaker 
than  the  devil  stripped  naked.'  By  which  he  meant 
exactly  this — that  we  have  to  dress  wrong  in  some 
fantastic  costume  or  other,  so  as  to  hide  its  native 
ugliness,  in  order  to  tempt  men  to  do  it.  So  we 
have  two  sets  of  names  for  wrong  things,  one  of 
which  we  apply  to  our  brethren's  sins,  and  the  other 
to  the  same  sins  in  ourselves.  What  I  do  is  '  prudence,* 
what  you  do  of  the  same  sort  is  *  covetousness ' ; 
what  I  do  is  'sowing  my  wild  oats,'  what  you  do  is 
•immorality'  and  'dissipation';  what  I  do  is  'generous 
living,'  what  you  do  is  'drunkenness'  and  'gluttony'; 
what  I  do  is  'righteous  indignation,'  what  you  do 
is  '  passionate  anger.'  And  so  you  may  go  the 
whole  round    of  evil.     Very   bad  are   the  men  who 


240     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

can  look  at  their  deed,  described  in  its  own  inherent 
deformity,  and  yet  say,  'Yes;  that  is  it,  and  I  am 
going  to  do  it.'  *One  of  you  shall  betray  Me.'  'Yes; 
I  will  betray  you  ! '  It  must  have  taken  something  to 
look  into  the  Master's  face,  and  keep  the  fixed  purpose 
steady. 

Now  I  ask  you  to  think,  dear  friends,  of  this,  that 
that  obstinate  condition  of  dogged  determination  to  do 
a  wrong  thing,  knowing  it  to  be  a  wrong  thing,  is  a 
condition  to  which  all  evil  steadily  tends.  "We  may  not 
come  to  it  in  this  world — I  do  not  know  that  men  ever 
do  so  wholly;  but  we  are  all  getting  towards  it  in 
regard  to  the  special  wrong  deeds  and  desires  which 
we  cherish  and  commit.  And  when  a  man  has  once 
reached  the  point  of  saying  to  evil,  '  Be  thou  my  good,' 
then  he  is  a  '  devil '  in  the  true  meaning  of  the  word ; 
and  wherever  he  is,  he  is  in  hell!  And  the  one  un- 
pardonable sin  is  the  sin  of  clear  recognition  that  a 
given  thing  is  contrary  to  God's  will,  and  unfaltering 
determination,  notwithstanding,  to  do  it.  That  is  the 
only  sin  that  cannot  be  pardoned,  '  either  in  this  world 
or  in  the  world  to  come.' 

And  so,  my  brother,  seeing  that  such  a  condition  is 
possible,  and  that  all  the  paths  of  evil,  however  ten- 
tative and  timorous  they  may  be  at  first,  and  however 
much  the  sin  may  be  wrapped  up  with  excuses  and 
forms  and  masks,  tend  to  that  condition,  let  us  take 
that  old  prayer  upon  our  lips,  which  befits  both  those 
who  distrust  themselves  because  of  slumbering  sins, 
and  those  who  dread  being  conquered  by  manifest 
iniquity: — 'Who  can  understand  his  errors?  Cleanse 
Thou  me  from  secret  faults.  Keep  back  Thy  servant 
also  from  presumptuous  sins.  Let  them  not  have 
dominion  over  me.' 


vs.  22, 25]  *IS   IT  I?*  241 

III.  Now,  lastly,  we  have  in  the  last  question  an 
example  of  the  peaceful  confidence  that  conies  from 
communion  with  Jesus  Christ. 

John  leaned  on  the  Master's  bosom.  *  He  was  the 
disciple  whom  Jesus  loved.'  And  so  compassed  with 
that  great  love,  and  feeling  absolute  security  within 
the  enclosure  of  that  strong  hand,  his  question  is  not, 
•Is  it  I?'  but  «Who  is  it?'  From  which  I  think  we 
may  fairly  draw  the  conclusion  that  to  feel  that  Christ 
loves  me,  and  that  I  am  compassed  about  by  Him,  is 
the  true  security  against  my  falling  into  any  sin. 

It  was  not  John's  love  to  Christ,  but  Christ's  to  John 
that  made  his  safety.  He  did  not  say :  *  I  love  Thee  so 
much  that  I  cannot  betray  Thee.'  For  all  our  feelings 
and  emotions  are  but  variable,  and  to  build  confidence 
upon  them  is  to  build  a  heavy  building  upon  quick- 
sand ;  the  very  weight  of  it  drives  out  the  foundations. 
But  he  thought  to  himself — or  he  felt  rather  than  he 
thought — that  all  about  him  lay  the  sweet,  warm,  rich 
atmosphere  of  his  Master's  love;  and  to  a  man  who 
was  encompassed  by  that,  treachery  was  impossible. 

Sin  has  no  temptation  so  long  as  we  actually  enjoy 
the  greater  sweetness  of  Christ's  felt  love.  Would 
thirty  pieces  of  silver  have  been  a  bribe  to  John  ? 
Would  anything  that  could  have  terrified  others  have 
frightened  him  from  his  Master's  side  whilst  he  felt 
His  love  ?  Will  a  handful  of  imitation  jewellery,  made 
out  of  coloured  glass  and  paste,  be  any  temptation  to  a 
man  who  bears  a  rich  diamond  on  his  finger?  And 
will  any  of  earth's  sweetness  be  a  temptation  to  a  man 
who  lives  in  the  continual  consciousness  of  the  great 
rich  love  of  Christ  wrapping  him  round  about? 
Brethren,  not  ourselves,  not  our  faith,  not  our 
©motion,  not  our  religious  experience ;  nothing  that 

VOL.  III.  Q 


242     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

is  in  us,  is  any  security  that  we  may  not  be  tempted, 
and  yield  to  the  temptation,  and  deny  or  betray  our 
Lord.  There  is  only  one  thing  that  is  a  security,  and 
that  is  that  we  be  folded  to  the  heart,  and  held  by  the 
hand,  of  that  loving  Lord.  Then — then  we  may  be  con- 
fident that  we  shall  not  fall ;  for  *  the  Lord  is  able  to 
make  us  stand.' 

Such  confidence  is  but  the  other  side  of  our  self- 
distrust;  is  the  constant  accompaniment  of  it,  must 
have  that  self- distrust  for  its  condition  and  pre- 
requisite, and  leads  to  a  yet  deeper  and  more  blessed 
form  of  that  self-distrust.  Faith  in  Him  and  '  no  con- 
fidence in  the  flesh '  are  but  the  two  sides  of  the  same 
coin,  the  obverse  and  the  reverse.  The  seed,  planted 
in  the  ground,  sends  a  little  rootlet  down,  and  a  little 
spikelet  up,  by  the  same  vital  act.  And  so  in  our 
hearts,  as  it  were,  the  downward  rootlet  is  self-despair, 
and  the  upward  shoot  is  faith  in  Christ.  The  two 
emotions  go  together — the  more  we  distrust  ourselves 
the  more  we  shall  rest  upon  Him,  and  the  more  we  rest 
upon  Him,  and  feel  that  all  our  strength  comes,  not 
from  our  foot,  but  from  the  Rock  on  which  it  stands, 
the  more  we  shall  distrust  our  own  ability  and  our  own 
faithfulness. 

Therefore,  dear  brethren,  looking  upon  all  the  eviL 
that  is  around  us,  and  conscious  in  some  measure  of 
the  weakness  of  our  own  hearts,  let  us  do  as  a  man 
would  do  who  stands  upon  the  narrow  ledge  of  a  cliff, 
and  look  sheer  down  into  the  depth  below,  and  feels 
his  head  begin  to  reel  and  turn  giddy ;  let  us  lay  hold 
of  the  Guide's  hand,  and  if  we  cleave  by  Him,  He  will 
hold  up  our  goings  that  our  footsteps  slip  not.  Nothing 
else  will.  No  length  of  obedient  service  is  any  guarantee 
against  treachery  and  rebellion.    As  John  Banyan  saw, 


vs.  22, 25]  *THIS  CUP'  243 

there  was  a  backdoor  to  hell  from  the  gate  of  the 
Celestial  City.  Men  have  lived  for  years  consistent 
professing  Christians,  and  have  fallen  at  last.  Many  a 
ship  has  come  across  half  the  world,  and  gone  to 
pieces  on  the  harbour  bar.  Many  an  army,  victorious 
in  a  hundred  fights,  has  been  annihilated  at  last.  No 
depths  of  religious  experience,  no  heights  of  religious 
blessedness,  no  attainments  of  past  virtue  and  self- 
sacrifice,  are  any  guarantees  for  to-morrow.  Trust  in 
nothing  and  in  nobody,  least  of  all  in  yourselves  and 
your  own  past.    Trust  only  in  Jesus  Christ. 

'  Now  unto  Him  that  is  able  to  keep  us  from  falling, 
and  to  present  us  faultless  before  the  presence  of  His 
glory  with  exceeding  joy ;  to  the  only  wise  God  our 
Saviour  be  glory  and  majesty,  dominion  and  power, 
both  now  and  for  ever.'    Amen. 


•THIS  CUP' 

'And  Jesus  took  the  cup,  and  gave  thanks,  and  gave  it  to  them,  saying,  Drink  ye 
all  of  it ;  28.  For  this  is  My  blood  of  the  new  testament,  w^hich  is  shed  for  many 
for  the  remission  of  sins.'— Matt.  xxvi.  27,  28. 

The  comparative  silence  of  our  Lord  as  to  the  sacrificial 
character  of  His  death  has  very  often  been  urged  as  a 
reason  for  doubting  that  doctrine,  and  for  regarding  it 
as  no  part  of  the  original  Christian  teaching.  That 
silence  may  be  accounted  for  by  sufficient  reasons.  It 
has  been  very  much  exaggerated,  and  those  who  argue 
from  it  against  the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement  have 
forgotten  that  Jesus  Christ  founded  the  Lord's  Supper. 
That  rite  shows  us  what  He  thought,  and  what  He 
would  have  us  think,  of  His  death ;  and  in  the  presence 
of  its  testimony  it  seems  to  me  impossible  to  deny  that 


244     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    |ch.  xxvi. 

His  conception  of  it  was  distinctly  sacrificial.  By  it 
He  points  out  the  moment  of  His  whole  career  which 
He  desires  that  men  should  remember.  Not  His  words 
of  tenderness  and  wisdom ;  not  His  miracles,  amazing 
and  gracious  as  these  were  ;  not  the  flawless  beauty  of 
His  character,  though  it  touches  all  hearts  and  wins 
the  most  rugged  to  love,  and  the  most  degraded  to 
hope ;  but  the  moment  in  which  He  gave  His  life  is 
what  He  would  imprint  for  ever  on  the  memory  of 
the  world. 

And  not  only  so,  but  in  the  rite  he  distinctly  tells  us 
in  what  aspect  He  would  have  that  death  remembered. 
Not  as  the  tragic  end  of  a  noble  career  which  might  be 
hallowed  by  tears  such  as  are  shed  over  a  martyr's 
ashes ;  not  as  the  crowning  proof  of  love ;  not  as  the 
supreme  act  of  patient  forgiveness ;  but  as  a  death  for 
us,  in  which,  as  by  the  blood  of  the  sacrifice,  is  secured 
the  remission  of  sins. 

And  not  only  so,  but  the  double  symbol  in  the  Lord's 
Supper — whilst  in  some  respects  the  bread  and  wine 
speak  the  same  truths,  and  certainly  point  to  the 
same  Cross — has  in  each  of  its  parts  special  lessons 
intrusted  to  it,  and  special  truths  to  proclaim.  The 
bread  and  the  wine  both  say  : — '  Remember  Me  and  My 
death.'  Taken  in  conjunction  they  point  to  that  death 
as  violent ;  taken  separately  they  each  suggest  various 
aspects  of  it,  and  of  the  blessings  that  will  flow  to  us 
therefrom.  And  it  is  my  present  purpose  to  bring 
out,  as  briefly  and  as  clearly  as  I  can,  the  special  lessons 
which  our  Lord  would  have  us  draw  from  that  cup 
which  is  the  emblem  of  His  shed  blood. 

I.  First,  then,  observe  that  it  speaks  to  us  of  a  divine 
treaty  or  covenant. 

Ancient  Israel  had  lived  for  nearly  2000  years  under 


^^ 


vs.  27, 28]  *  THIS  CUP '  245 

the  charter  of  their  national  existence  which,  as  we 
read  in  the  Old  Testament,  was  given  on  Sinai  amidst 
thunderings  and  lightnings — '  Now,  therefore,  if  ye 
will  obey  My  voice  indeed,  and  keep  My  covenant,  then 
ye  shall  be  a  peculiar  treasure  unto  Me  above  all  people; 
for  all  the  earth  is  Mine,  and  ye  shall  be  unto  Me  a 
kingdom  of  priests  and  an  holy  nation.' 

And  that  covenant,  or  agreement,  or  treaty,  on  the 
part  of  God,  was  ratified  by  a  solemn  act,  in  which  the 
blood  of  the  sacrifice,  divided  into  two  portions,  was 
sprinkled,  one  half  upon  the  altar,  and  the  other  half, 
after  their  acceptance  of  the  conditions  and  obligations 
of  the  covenant,  on  the  people,  who  had  pledged  them- 
selves to  obedience. 

And  now,  here  is  a  Galilean  peasant,  in  a  borrowed 
upper  room,  within  four-and-twenty  hours  of  His 
ignominious  death  which  might  seem  to  blast  all  His 
work,  who  steps  forward  and  says,  '  I  put  away  that 
ancient  covenant  which  knits  this  nation  to  God.  It  is 
antiquated.  I  am  the  true  offering  and  sacrifice,  by 
the  blood  of  which,  sprinkled  on  altar  and  on  people,  a 
new  covenant,  built  upon  better  promises,  shall  hence- 
forth be.' 

What  a  tremendous  piece  of  audacity,  except  on  the 
one  hypothesis  that  He  that  spake  was  indeed  the 
Word  of  God ;  and  that  He  was  making  that  which 
Himself  had  established  of  old,  to  give  way  to  that 
which  He  establishes  now !  The  new  covenant  which 
Christ  seals  in  His  blood,  is  the  charter,  the  better 
charter,  under  the  conditions  of  which,  not  a  nation 
but  the  world  may  find  an  external  salvation  which 
dwarfs  all  the  deliverances  of  the  past.  That  idea 
of  a  covenant  confirmed  by  Christ's  blood  may 
sound  to  many  hearers  dry  and  hard.    But  if  you  will 


246     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxvi. 

try  to  think  what  great  truths  are  wrapped  up  in  the 
theological  phraseology,  you  will  find  them  very  real 
and  very  strong.  Is  it  not  a  grand  thought  that  be- 
tween us  and  the  infinite  divine  Nature  there  is  estab- 
lished a  firm  and  unmovable  agreement?  Then  He 
has  revealed  His  purposes  ;  we  are  not  left  to  grope  in 
darkness,  at  the  mercy  of  '  peradventures '  and  *pro- 
bablies ' ;  nor  reduced  to  consult  the  ambiguous  oracles 
of  nature  or  of  Providence,  or  the  varying  voices  of 
our  own  hearts,  or  painfully  and  dubiously  to  construct 
more  or  less  strong  bases  for  confidence  in  a  loving  God 
out  of  such  hints  and  fragments  of  revelation  as  these 
supply.  He  has  come  out  of  His  darkness,  and  spoken 
articulate  words,  plain  words,  faithful  words,  which 
bind  Him  to  a  distinctly  defined  course  of  action. 
Across  the  great  ocean  of  possible  modes  of  action  for 
a  divine  nature  He  has,  if  I  may  so  say,  buoyed  out  for 
Himself  a  channel,  so  as  that  we  know  His  path,  which 
is  in  the  deep  waters.  He  has  limited  Himself  by  the 
utterance  of  a  faithful  word,  and  we  can  now  come  to 
Him  with  His  own  promise,  and  cast  it  down  before 
Him,  and  say :  '  Thou  hast  spoken,  and  Thou  art 
bound  to  fulfil  it.'  We  have  a  covenant  wherein  God 
has  shown  us  His  hand,  has  told  us  what  He  is 
going  to  do  and  has  thereby  pledged  Himself  to  its 
performance. 

And,  still  further,  in  order  to  get  the  full  sweetness 
of  this  thought,  to  break  the  husk  and  reach  to 
the  kernel,  you  must  remember  what,  according  to  the 
New  Testament,  are  the  conditions  of  this  covenant. 
The  old  agreement  was,  '  If  ye  will  obey  My  voice  and 
do  My  commandments,  then,' — so  and  so  will  happen. 
The  old  condition  was,  '  Do  and  live ;  be  righteous  and 
blessed ! '      The   new  condition    is :    '  Take    and   have ; 


I 


vs.  27,28]  *THIS  CUP'  247 

believe  and  live  !  *  The  one  was  lavr,  the  other  is  gift ; 
the  one  was  retribution,  the  other  is  forgiveness.  One 
was  outward,  hard,  rigid  law,  fitly  *  graven  with  a  pen 
of  iron  on  the  rocks  for  ever';  the  other  is  impulse, 
love,  a  power  bestowed  that  will  make  us  obedient ; 
and  the  sole  condition  that  we  have  to  render  is  the 
condition  of  humble  and  believing  acceptance  of  the 
divine  gift.  The  new  covenant,  in  the  exuberant  fulness 
of  its  mercy,  and  in  the  tenderness  of  its  gracious  pur- 
poses, is  at  once  the  completion  and  the  antithesis  of  the 
ancient  covenant  with  its  precepts  and  its  retribution. 

And,  still  further,  this  'new  covenant,' of  which  the 
essence  is  God's  bestowment  of  Himself  on  every  heart 
that  wills  to  possess  Him  ;  this  new  covenant,  accord- 
ing to  the  teaching  of  these  words  of  my  text  and  of 
the  symbol  to  which  they  refer,  is  ratified  and  sealed 
by  that  great  sacrifice.  The  blood  was  sprinkled  on  the 
altar ;  the  blood  was  sprinkled  on  the  people,  which 
being  translated  into  plain,  unmetaphorical  language 
is  simply  this,  that  Christ's  death  remains  for  ever 
present  to  the  divine  mind  as  the  great  reason  and 
motive  which  modifies  His  government,  and  which 
ensures  that  His  love  shall  ever  find  its  way  to  every 
seeking  soul.  His  death  is  the  token  ;  His  death  is  the 
reason ;  His  death  is  the  pledge  of  the  unending  and 
the  inexhaustible  mercy  of  God  bestowed  upon  each  of 
us.  'He  that  spared  not  His  own  Son,  shall  He  not 
with  Him  also  freely  give  us  all  things  ? '  The  outward 
rite  with  its  symbol  is  the  exhibition  in  visible  form  of 
that  truth,  that  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  seals  to  the 
world  the  infinite  mercy  of  God. 

And,  on  the  other  hand,  that  same  blood  of  the 
covenant,  sprinkled  upon  the  other  parties  to  the 
treaty,  even  our  poor  sinful  hearts,  binds  them  to  the 


248     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxvi. 

fulfilment  of  the  condition  which  belongs  to  them. 
That  is  to  say,  by  the  power  of  that  sacrifice  there  are 
evoked  in  our  poor  souls,  faith,  love,  surrender.  It, 
and  it  alone,  knits  us  to  God  ;  it,  and  it  alone,  binds  U8 
to  the  fulfilment  of  the  covenant.  My  brother,  have 
you  entered  into  that  sweet,  solemn,  sacred  alliance 
and  union  with  God  ?  Have  you  accepted  and  fulfilled 
the  conditions  ?  Is  your  heart  '  sprinkled  with  the 
blood  so  freely  shed  for  you ' ;  and  have  you  thereby 
been  brought  into  living  alliance  with  the  God  who 
has  pledged  His  being  and  His  name  to  be  the  all- 
sufficient  God  to  you  ? 

II.  Still  further,  this  cup  speaks  to  us  of  the  forgive- 
ness of  sins. 

One  theory,  and  one  theory  only,  as  it  seems  to  me, 
of  the  meaning  of  Christ's  death,  is  possible  if  these 
words  of  my  text  ever  dropped  from  Christ's  lips,  or  if 
He  ever  instituted  the  rite  to  which  they  refer;  He 
must  have  believed  that  His  death  was  a  sacrifice, 
without  which  the  sins  of  the  world  were  not  forgiven ; 
and  by  which  forgiveness  came  to  us  all. 

And  I  do  not  think  that  we  rightly  conceive  the  rela- 
tion between  the  sacrifices  of  barbarous  heathen  tribes, 
or  the  sacrifices  appointed  in  Israel,  and  the  great 
sacrifice  on  the  Cross,  if  we  say  that  our  Lord's  death 
is  only  figuratively  accommodated  to  these  in  order  to 
meet  lower  or  grosser  conceptions,  but  rather,  I  take 
it,  that  the  accommodation  is  the  other  way.  In  all 
nations  beyond  the  limits  of  Israel  the  sacrifices  of 
living  victims  spoke  not  only  of  surrender  and  depend- 
ence, but  likewise  of  the  consciousness  of  demerit  and 
evil  on  the  part  of  the  offerers,  and  were  at  once  a  con- 
fession of  sin,  a  prayer  for  pardon,  and  a  propitiation 
of  an  offended  God.    And  I  believe  that  the  sacrifices 


vs.  27, 28]  'THIS  CUP'  249 

in  Israel  were  intended  and  adapted  not  only  to  meet 
the  deep-felt  want  of  human  nature,  common  to  them 
as  to  all  other  tribes,  but  also  were  intended  and 
adapted  to  point  onwards  to  Him  in  whose  death  a 
real  want  of  mankind  was  met,  in  whose  death  a  real 
sacrifice  was  offered,  in  whose  death  an  angry  God  was 
not  indeed  propitiated,  but  in  whose  death  the  loving 
Father  of  our  souls  Himself  provided  the  Lamb  for  the 
offering,  without  which,  for  reasons  deeper  than  we 
can  wholly  fathom,  it  was  impossible  that  sin  should 
be  remitted. 

I  insist  upon  no  theory  of  an  Atonement.  I  believe 
there  is  no  Gospel,  worth  calling  so,  worth  the  preach- 
ing, worth  your  believing,  or  that  will  ever  move  the 
world  or  purify  society,  except  the  Gospel  which  begins 
with  the  fact  of  an  Atonement,  and  points  to  the  Cross 
as  the  altar  on  which  the  Sacrifice  for  the  sins  of  the 
world,  without  whose  death  pardon  is  impossible,  has 
died  for  us  all. 

Oh!  dear  friends,  do  not  let  yourselves  be  confused 
by  the  difiiculties  that  beset  all  human  and  incomplete 
statements  of  the  philosophy  of  the  death  of  Christ; 
but  getting  away  from  these,  cleave  you  to  the  fact 
that  your  sins  were  laid  upon  Christ,  and  that  He  has 
died  for  us  all ;  that  His  death  is  a  sacrifice ;  His  body 
broken  for  us ;  and  for  the  remission  of  our  sins.  His 
blood  freely  shed.  Thus,  and  only  thus,  will  you  come 
to  the  understanding  either  of  the  sweetness  of  His 
love  or  of  the  power  of  His  example ;  then,  and  only 
then,  shall  we  know  why  it  was  that  He  elected  to  be 
remembered,  out  of  all  the  moments  of  His  life,  by  that 
one  when  He  hung  in  weakness  upon  the  Cross,  and 
out  of  the  darkness  came  the  cry,  '  My  God,  My  God, 
why  hast  Thou  forsaken  Me  ? ' 


250     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxvi. 

III.  And  now,  again,  let  me  remind  you  that  this  cup 
speaks  likewise  of  a  life  infused. 

*The  blood  is  the  life,'  says  the  physiology  of  the 
Hebrews.  The  blood  is  the  life,  and  when  men  drink 
of  that  cup  they  symbolise  the  fact  that  Christ's  own 
life  and  spirit  are  imparted  to  them  that  love  Him. 
'  Except  ye  eat  the  flesh,  and  drink  the  blood  of  the 
Son  of  Man,  ye  have  no  life  in  you.'  The  very  heart  of 
Christ's  gift  to  us  is  the  gift  of  His  own  very  life  to 
be  the  life  of  our  lives.  In  deep,  mystical  reality  He 
Himself  passes  into  our  being,  and  the  '  law  of  the 
spirit  of  life  makes  us  free  from  the  law  of  sin  and 
death,'  so  that  we  may  say :  *  He  that  is  joined  to  the 
Lord  is  one  spirit,'  and  the  humble  believing  soul  may 
rejoice  in  this :  *  I  live,  yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in 
Me.'  This  is,  in  one  aspect,  the  very  deepest  meaning 
of  this  Communion  rite.  As  physicians  sometimes 
tried  to  restore  life  to  an  almost  dead  man  by  the 
transfusion  into  his  shrunken  veins  of  the  fresh  warm 
blood  from  a  young  and  healthy  subject,  so  into  our 
fevered  life,  into  our  corrupted  blood,  there  is  poured 
the  full  tide  of  the  pure  and  perfect  life  of  Jesus  Christ 
Himself,  and  we  live,  not  by  our  own  power,  nor  for 
our  own  will,  nor  in  obedience  to  our  own  caprices,  but 
by  Him  and  in  Him,  and  with  Him  and  for  Him.  This 
is  the  heart  of  Christianity,  the  possession  within  us  of 
the  life,  the  immortal  life  of  Him  that  died  for  us. 

My  brother  !  have  you  that  great  gift  in  your  heart? 
Be  sure  of  this,  that  unless  the  life  of  Christ  is  in  you 
by  faith,  ye  are  dead,  '  dead  in  trespasses  and  in  sins ' ; 
dead,  and  sure  to  rot  away  and  disintegrate  into  cor- 
ruption. The  cup  of  blessing  which  we  drink  speaks  to 
us  of  the  transfusion  into  our  spirits  of  the  Spirit  of 
Jesus  Christ. 


vs.  27, 28]  *  THIS  CUP '  251 

IV.  And  lastly,  it  speaks  of  a  festal  gladness. 

The  bread  says  nothing  to  us  of  the  remission  of 
sins.  The  broken  bread  proclaims,  indeed,  our  nourish- 
ment from  Jesus,  but  falls  short  of  the  deep  and  solemn 
truth  that  it  is  the  very  life-blood  of  Christ  Himself 
which  nourishes  us  and  vitalises  us.  And  the  bread,  in 
like  manner,  proclaims  indeed  the  fact  that  we  are  fed 
on  Him,  but  says  nothing  of  the  joy  of  that  feeding. 
The  wine  is  the  symbol  of  that,  and  it  proclaims  to  us 
that  the  Christian  life  here  on  earth,  just  because  it  is 
the  feeding  on  and  the  drinking  in  of  Jesus  Christ, 
ought  ever  to  be  a  life  of  blessedness,  of  abounding  joy, 
by  whatsoever  darkness,  burdens,  cares,  toils,  sorrows, 
and  solitude  it  may  be  shaded  and  saddened.  They  who 
live  on  Christ,  they  who  drink  in  of  His  spirit,  they 
should  be  glad  in  all  circumstances,  they,  and  they 
alone.  We  sit  at  a  table,  though  it  be  in  the  wilder- 
ness, though  it  be  in  the  presence  of  our  enemies, 
where  there  ought  to  be  joy  and  the  voice  of  rejoicing. 

But  beyond  that,  as  our  Master  Himself  taught  these 
apostles  in  that  upper  room,  this  cup  points  onwards  to 
a  future  feast.  At  that  solemn  hour  Jesus  stayed  His 
own  heart  with  the  vision  of  the  perfected  kingdom 
and  the  glad  festival  then.  So  this  Communion  has  a 
prophetic  element  in  it,  and  links  on  with  predictions 
and  parables  which  speak  of  the  '  marriage  supper '  of 
the  great  King,  and  of  the  time  when  we  shall  sit  at 
His  table  in  His  kingdom. 

For  the  past  the  Lord's  Supper  speaks  of  the  one 
sufficient  oblation  and  satisfaction  for  the  sins  of  the 
whole  world.  For  the  present  it  speaks  of  life  produced 
and  sustained  by  communion  with  Jesus  Christ.  And 
for  the  future  it  speaks  of  the  unending,  joyful  satisfac- 
tion of  all  desires  in  the  '  upper  room '  of  the  heavens. 


252     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

How  unlike,  and  yet  how  like  to  that  scene  in  the 
upper  room  at  Jerusalem !  From  it  the  sad  disciples 
went  out,  some  of  them  to  deny  their  Master ;  all  of 
them  to  struggle,  to  sin,  to  lose  Him  from  their  sight, 
to  toil,  to  sorrow,  and  at  last  to  die.  From  that  other 
table  we  shall  go  no  more  out,  but  sit  there  with  Him 
in  full  fruition  of  unfailing  blessedness  and  participa- 
tion of  His  immortal  life  for  evermore. 

Dear  brethren,  these  are  the  lessons,  these  the  hopes, 
which  this  '  blood  of  the  new  covenant '  teaches  and 
inspires.  Have  you  entered  into  that  covenant  with 
God?  Have  you  made  sure  work  of  the  forgiveness 
of  your  sins  through  His  blood?  Have  you  received 
into  your  spirits  His  immortal  life  ?  Then  you  may 
humbly  be  confident  that,  after  life's  weariness  and 
lonesomeness  are  past,  you  will  be  welcomed  to  the 
banqueting  hall  by  the  Lord  of  the  feast,  and  sit  with 
Him  and  His  servants  who  loved  Him  at  that  table 
and  be  glad. 


•UNTIL  THAT  DAY' 

'  I  will  not  drink  henceforth  of  this  fruit  of  the  vine,  until  that  day  when  I 
drink  it  new  with  you  in  my  Father's  kingdom.'— Matt.  xxvi.  29. 

This  remarkable  saying  of  our  Lord's  is  recorded  in  all 
of  the  accounts  of  the  institution  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 
The  thought  embodied  in  it  ought  to  be  present  in  the 
minds  of  all  who  partake  of  that  rite.  It  converts 
what  is  primarily  a  memorial  into  a  prophecy.  It  bids 
us  hope  as  well  as,  and  because  we,  remember.  The 
light  behind  us  is  cast  forward  on  to  the  dimness  before. 
So  the  Apostle  Paul,  in  his  solitary  reference  to  the  Com- 
munion— which,  indeed,  is  an  entirely  incidental  one, 
and  evoked  simply  by  the  corruptions  in  the  Corinthian 


V.29]  *  UNTIL  THAT  DAY*  253 

Church,  emphasises  this  prophetic  and  onward-looking 
aspect  of  the  backward-looking  rite  when  he  says,  *  Ye 
do  show  the  Lord's  death  till  He  come.' 

Now,  it  seems  to  me  that  those  of  us  who  so  strongly 
hold  that  the  Communion  is  primarilya  simple  memorial 
service,  with  no  mysterious  or  magical  efficacy  of  any 
sort  about  it,  do  rather  ignore  in  our  ordinary  thoughts 
the  other  aspect  which  is  brought  out  in  my  text ;  and 
that  comparative  ignoring  seems  to  me  to  be  but  a 
part  of  a  very  lamentable  and  general  tendency  of  this 
day,  whereby  the  prospect  of  a  future  life  has  become 
somewhat  dimmed  and  does  not  fill  the  place  either  in 
ordinary  Christian  thinking,  or  as  a  motive  for  Christian 
service  which  the  proportion  of  faith,  and  the  relative 
importance  of  the  present  and  the  future  suggest  that 
it  ought  to  fill.  The  Christianity  of  this  day  has  so 
much  to  do  with  the  present  life,  and  the  thought  of 
the  Gospel  as  a  power  in  the  present  has  been  so 
emphasised,  in  legitimate  reaction  from  the  opposite 
exaggeration,  that  there  is  great  need,  as  I  believe, 
to  preach  to  Christian  people  the  wisdom  of  making 
more  prominent  in  their  faith  their  immortal  hope. 
I  wish,  then,  to  turn  now  to  this  aspect  of  the  rite 
which  we  regard  as  a  memorial,  and  try  to  emphasise 
its  forward-looking  attitude,  and  the  large  blessed 
truths  that  emerge  if  we  consider  that. 

I.  First,  let  me  say  just  a  word  about  the  twin 
aspect  of  the  Communion  as  a  memorial  prophecy,  or 
prophetic  remembrance. 

Now,  I  need  not  remind  you,  I  suppose,  that  accord- 
ing to  the  view  which,  as  I  believe,  the  New  Testa- 
ment takes,  and  which  certainly  we  Nonconformists 
take,  of  all  the  rites  of  external  worship,  every  one  of 
them  is  a  prophecy,  because  every  act  in  which  our  sense 


254    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxvi. 

is  brought  in  to  reinforce  the  spirit — and  by  outward 
forms,  be  they  vocal,  or  be  they  manual,  or  be  they 
of  any  other  sort,  we  try  to  express  and  to  quicken 
spiritual  emotions  and  intellectual  convictions — declares 
its  own  imperfection,  digs  its  own  grave,  and  prophecies 
its  own  resurrection  in  a  nobler  and  better  fashion. 
Just  because  these  outward  symbols  of  bread  and  wine 
do,  through  the  senses,  quicken  the  faith  and  the  love 
of  the  spirit,  they  declare  themselves  to  be  transitory, 
and  they  point  onwards  to  the  time  when  that  which 
is  perfect  shall  absorb,  and  so  destroy,  that  which  is  in 
part,  and  when  sense  shall  be  no  longer  necessary  as 
the  ally  and  humble  servant  of  spirit.  *I  saw  no 
temple  therein.'  Temples,  and  rites,  and  services,  and 
holy  days,  and  all  the  external  apparatus  of  worship, 
are  but  scaffolding,  and  just  as  the  scaffolding  round  a 
building  is  a  prophecy  of  its  own  being  pulled  down 
when  the  building  is  reared  and  completed,  so  we  can- 
not partake  of  these  external  symbols  rightly,  unless 
we  recognise  their  transiency,  and  feel  that  they  say  to 
us, '  A  mightier  than  I  cometh  after  me,  the  latchet  of 
whose  shoe  I  am  not  worthy  to  unloose.'  The  light  that 
shines  in  the  dark  heralds  the  day  and  its  own  extinction. 

So,  looking  back  we  must  look  forward,  and  partak- 
ing of  the  symbol,  we  must  reach  out  to  the  time  when 
the  symbol  shall  be  antiquated,  the  reality  having 
come.  The  Passover  of  Israel  did  not  more  truly  point 
onwards  to  the  true  Lamb  of  Sacrifice,  and  to  the  true 
Passover  that  was  slain  for  us,  and  to  its  own  elevation 
into  the  Lord's  Supper  of  the  Christian  Church,  than 
the  Lord's  Supper  of  the  Christian  Church  points  on- 
wards to  the  '  marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb,'  and  its 
own  cessation. 

But  then,  again,  let  me  remind  you  that  this  pro- 


V.  29]  *  UNTIL  THAT  DAY '  255 

phetic  aspect  is  inherent  in  the  memorial  aspect  of  the 
Communion,  because  what  we  remember  necessarily 
demands  the  coming  of  what  we  hope.  That  is 
to  say,  if  Jesus  Christ  be  what  the  Lord's  Supper 
says  that  He  is,  and  if  He  has  done  what  that  broken 
bread  and  poured  out  wine  proclaim,  according  to 
His  own  utterance,  that  He  has  done,  then  clearly 
that  death  which  was  for  the  life  of  the  world,  that 
death  which  was  the  seal  of  a  covenant,  that  body 
broken  for  the  remission  of  sins,  that  wine  partaken 
of  as  a  reception  into  ourselves  of  the  very  life-blood 
of  Jesus  Christ,  do  all  demand  something  far  nobler 
and  more  perfect  than  the  broken,  incomplete  obedi- 
ence and  loyalties  and  communions  which  Christian 
men  here  exercise  and  possess. 

If  He  died,  as  the  rite  says  that  He  did,  and  if  dying 
He  left  such  a  commentary  upon  His  act  as  that  ordin- 
ance affords,  then  He  cannot  have  done  with  the  world ; 
then  the  powers  that  were  set  in  motion  by  His  death 
cannot  pause  nor  cease  their  action  until  they  have 
reached  their  appropriate  culmination  in  effecting  all 
that  it  was  in  them  to  effect.  If,  leaving  His  people, 
He  said  to  them,  *  Never  forget  My  death  for  you,  My 
broken  body,  and  My  shed  blood,'  He  therein  said  that 
the  time  will  come,  must  come,  when  all  the  powers  of 
the  Cross  shall  be  incorporated  in  humanity,  and  when 
the  parted  shall  be  reunited.  The  Communion  would 
stand  as  the  expression  of  Christ's  mistaken  estimate 
of  His  own  importance,  if  there  were  not  beyond  the 
grave  the  perfecting  of  it,  and  the  full  appropriation 
and  joyful  possession  of  all  which  the  death  that  it 
signifies  brought  to  mankind. 

Therefore,  dear  brethren,  it  seems  to  me  that  the 
best  way  by  which  Christians  can  deepen  their  con- 


256    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvl 

fidence  and  brighten  their  hope  in  the  perfect  reunion 
and  blessedness  of  the  heavens,  is  to  increase  the  firm- 
ness of  their  faith  in,  and  the  depth  of  their  apprehen- 
sion of,  the  sacrifice  of  the  Cross.  If  the  Cross  demands 
the  Crown,  then  our  surest  way  to  realise  as  certain 
our  own  possession  of  that  Crown  is  to  cling  very  close 
to  that  Cross.  The  more  we  look  backwards  to  it  the 
more  will  it  fling  its  light  into  all  the  dark  places  that 
are  in  front  of  us,  and  flush  the  heavens  up  to  the 
seventh  and  beyond,  with  the  glories  that  stream  from 
it.  Hold  fast  by  the  Cross,  and  the  more  fully,  believ- 
ingly,  joyously,  unfalteringly,  we  recognise  in  it  the 
foundation  of  our  salvation,  the  more  gladly,  clearly, 
operatively,  shall  we  cherish  the  hope  that  the  head- 
stone shall  be  brought  forth  with  shoutings,'  and  that 
the  imperfect  symbolical  communion  of  earth  will 
grow  and  greaten  into  complete  and  real  union  in 
eternal  bliss. 

Let  me  urge,  then,  this,  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  a 
faith  in  eternal  glory  goes  with  and  fluctuates  in  the 
same  degree  and  manner  as  does  the  faith  in  the  past 
sacrifice  that  Christ  has  made.  He,  and  He  alone,  as  I 
believe,  turns  nebulae  into  solidity,  and  makes  of  the 
more  or  less  tremulous  anticipation  of  a  more  or  less 
dim  and  distant  future,  a  calm,  still  certainty.  We  know 
that  He  will  come  because,  and  in  proportion  as,  we 
believe  that  He  has  come.  Keep  these  two  things, 
then,  always  together,  the  memory  and  the  hope.  They 
stand  like  two  great  piers,  one  on  either  side  of  a 
narrow,  dark  glen,  and  suspended  from  them  is  stretched 
the  bridge,  along  which  the  happy  pilgrims  may  travel 
and  enter  into  rest. 

II.  And  now,  let  us  turn  for  a  moment  to  the  lovely 
vision  of  that  future  which  is  suggested  by  our  text. 


V.29]  'UNTIL  THAT  DAY'  257 

The  truest  way,  I  was  going  to  say  the  only  way,  by 
which  we  can  have  any  conceptions  of  a  condition  of 
being  of  which  we  have  no  experience,  is  to  fall  back 
upon  the  experiences  which  we  have,  and  use  them  as 
symbols  and  metaphors.  The  curtain  is  the  picture. 
So  our  Lord  here,  in  accordance  with  the  necessary 
limitations  of  our  human  knowledge,  contents  Him- 
self with  using  what  lay  at  His  hand,  and  taking  it  as 
giving  faint  shadows  and  metaphorical  suggestions  as 
to  spiritual  blessedness  yonder. 

There  is  one  other  way,  as  it  seems  to  me,  by  which 
we  can  in  any  measure  body  forth  to  ourselves  that 
unknown  condition  of  things,  and  that  is  to  fall  back 
upon  our  present  experiences  in  another  fashion,  and 
negative  all  of  them  which  involve  pain  and  limitation 
and  incompleteness.  There  shall  be  no  night — no  sorrow 
— no  tears — no  sighing,  and  the  like.  These  negatives 
of  the  strong  and  stinging  griefs  and  limitations  of  the 
present  are  perhaps  our  second-best  way  of  coming  to 
some  prophetic  vision  of  that  great  future. 

Remembering,  then,  that  we  are  dealing  with  pure 
metaphor,  and  that  the  exact  translation  of  the  meta- 
phor into  reality  is  not  yet  possible  for  us,  let  us  take 
one  or  two  very  plain  thoughts  out  of  this  great  say- 
ing— *  Until  I  drink  it  new  with  you  in  My  Father's 
kingdom.' 

Then,  we  have  to  think  of  the  completion  of  the 
Christian  life  beyond,  which  is  also  the  completion  of 
the  results  of  Christ's  death  on  the  Cross,  as  being, 
according  to  the  very  frequent  metaphor  both  of  the 
Old  and  the  New  Testament,  a  prolonged  festival.  T  do 
not  need  to  speak  of  the  details  of  the  thoughts  that 
thence  emerge.  Let  me  sum^  them  up  as  briefly  as  may 
be.  They  include  the  satisfaction  of  every  desire  and 
VOL.  III.  S 


258     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxvi. 

the  nourishment  of  all  strength,  and  food  for  every 
faculty.  When  we  think  of  the  hungry  hearts  that 
all  men  carry,  and  how  true  it  is  that  even  the  wisest 
and  the  holiest  of  us  are  '  spending  our  money  for  that 
which  is  not  bread,  and  our  labour  for  that  which 
satisfieth  not';  when  we  think  of  how  the  choicest 
foods  that  life  can  provide,  even  for  the  noblest 
hunger  of  noble  hearts,  are  too  often  to  us  but  as  a 
feeding  on  ashes  that  will  leave  grit  between  the  teeth 
and  a  foul  taste  upon  the  palate,  surely  it  is  blessed  to 
think  that  we  may,  after  all  life's  disappointments, 
cherish  the  hope  of  a  perfect  fruition,  and  that  yonder, 
if  not  here,  it  will  be  fully  true  that '  God  never  sends 
mouths  but  He  sends  meat  to  feed  them.'  That  is  not 
so  in  this  world,  for  we  all  carry  hungers  which  impel 
us  forward  to  nobler  living,  and  which  it  would  not 
be  good  for  us  to  have  satisfied  here.  But,  unless  the 
whole  universe  is  a  godless  chaos,  there  must  be  some- 
where a  state  in  which  a  man  shall  have  all  that  he 
wants,  and  shall  want  only  what  he  ought. 

The  emblem  of  a  feast  suggests  also  society.  The 
solitary  travellers  who  have  been  toiling  and  moiling 
through  the  desert  all  the  day  long,  snatching  up  a  hasty 
mouthful  as  they  march,  and  lonely  many  a  time,  come 
together  at  last,  and  sit  together  there  joyous  and 
united.  Deep  down  in  our  hearts  some  of  us  have 
gashes  that  always  bleed.  We  know  losses  and  lone- 
liness, and  we  can  feel,  I  hope,  how  blessed  is  the 
thought  that  all  the  wanderers  shall  sit  there  together, 
and  rejoice  in  each  other's  communion,  '  and  so  shall 
we  ever  be  with  the  Lord.' 

But  besides  satisfaction  and  society  the  figure  sug- 
gests repose.  That  rest  is  not  indolence,  for  we  have 
to  carry  other  metaphors  with  us  in  order  to  come  to 


V.29]  'UNTIL  THAT  DAY'  259 

the  full  significance  of  this  one,  and  the  festal  imagery 
is  not  all  that  we  have  to  take  into  account;  for  we 
read,  '  I  grant  unto  you  a  kingdom,  and  ye  shall  sit  on 
twelve  thrones  judging  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel,'  as 
well  as  '  ye  shall  eat  and  drink  with  Me  at  My  table  in 
My  kingdom.'  So  repose,  which  is  consistent  and  co- 
existent with  the  intensest  activity,  is  the  great  hope 
that  comes  out  of  these  metaphors.  But  for  many  of 
us — I  suppose  for  all  of  us  elderly  people — who  are 
about  weary  of  work  and  worry,  there  is  no  deeper 
hope  than  the  hope  of  rest.  '  I  have  had  labour  enough 
for  one,'  says  one  of  our  poets.  And  I  think  there  is 
something  in  most  of  our  hearts  that  echoes  that  and 
rejoices  to  hear  that,  after  the  long  march, '  ye  shall  sit 
with  Me  at  My  table.' 

But  besides  satisfaction,  society,  and  rest,  the  figure 
suggests  gladness.  Wine  is  the  emblem  of  the  joyous 
side  of  a  feast,  just  as  bread  is  the  emblem  of  the 
necessary  nourishment.  And  it  is  new  wine ;  joy  raised 
to  a  higher  power,  transformed  and  glorified ;  and  yet 
the  old  emotion  in  a  new  form.  As  for  that  gladness, 
•  eye  hath  not  seen,  neither  hath  it  entered  into  the 
heart  of  man  to  conceive,  the  things  that  God  hath 
prepared  for  them  that  love  Him.'  Only  all  we 
weary,  heavy-laden,  saddened,  anxious,  disappointed, 
tormented  people  may  hope  for  these  festal  joys,  if  we 
are  Christ's.  The  feast  will  last  when  all  the  troubles 
and  the  cares  which  helped  us  to  it  are  dead  and 
buried  and  forgotten. 

These  four  things,  brethren — satisfaction,  society, 
rest,  new  gladness — are  proclaimed  and  prophesied  to 
each  of  us,  if  we  will,  by  this  memorial  rite. 

Again,  there  comes  from  this  aspect  of  the  Com- 
munion the  thought  that  the  blessed  condition  of  the 


260     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

Christian  soul  hereafter  is  a  feast  on  a  sacrifice.  We 
must  distinguish  between  the  sense  in  which  our  Lord 
drinks  with  us,  and  the  sense  in  which  we  alone  par- 
take of  that  feast  of  which  He  provides  the  viands. 
But  just  as  in  the  symbolic  ordinance  of  the  Com- 
munion the  very  essence  of  it  is  that  what  was  offered 
as  sacrifice  is  now  incorporated  into  the  participant's 
spiritual  being,  and  becomes  part  of  himself,  and  the 
life  of  his  life,  so,  in  the  future,  all  the  blessedness 
of  the  clustered  and  constellated  joys  of  that  life, 
which  is  one  eternal  festival,  shall  arise  from  the  re- 
ception into  perfected  spirits  with  ever-growing  great- 
ness and  blessedness  of  the  Christ  that  died  and  ever 
lives  for  them.  That  heavenly  glory,  to  its  highest 
pinnacle  of  aspiration,  to  its  most  rapt  completeness 
of  gladness,  is  all  the  consequence  of  Christ's  death  on 
the  Cross.  That  death,  which  we  commemorate,  is  the 
procuring  cause  of  man's  entrance  into  bliss,  and  that 
death  is  the  subject  of  the  continual,  grateful  remem- 
brance of 'the  saints  in  the  seventh  heaven  of  their 
glory.  Life  yonder,  as  all  true  life  here,  consists  in 
taking  into  ourselves  the  life  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the 
law  for  heaven  is  the  same  as  the  law  for  earth,  *  He 
that  eateth  Me,  even  he  shall  live  by  Me.' 

Lastly,  the  conception  of  the  future  for  Christian 
souls  arising  from  this  aspect  of  the  Lord's  Supper  is 
that  it  is  not  only  a  feast,  and  a  feast  on  a  sacrifice,  but 
that  it  is  a  feast  with  the  King. 

*  With  you  I  will  drink  it.'  Brethren,  we  pass  beyond 
metaphor  when  we  gather  up  and  condense  all  the 
vague  brightness  and  glories  of  that  perfect  future 
into  this  one  rapturous,  overwhelming,  all-embracing 
thought :  *  So  shall  we  ever  be  with  the  Lord.'  I  could 
almost  wish  that  Christian  people  had  no  other  thought 


V.  29]  GETHSEMANE  261 

of  that  future  than  this,  for  surely  in  its  grand  sim- 
plicity, in  its  ineffable  depth,  there  lie  the  germs  of 
every  blessedness.  How  poor  all  the  material  emblems 
are,  of  which  sensuous  imaginations  make  so  much, 
when  compared  with  that  hope!  As  the  good  old 
hymn  has  it,  which  to  me  says  more,  in  its  bold  sim- 
plicity, than  all  the  sentimental  enlargements  of 
Scriptural  metaphors  which   some  people   admire  so 

much — 

*  It  is  enough  that  Christ  knows  all, 
And  I  shall  be  with  Him.' 

Strange  that  He  says,  '  I  will  drink  it  tcith  you.' 
Does  He  need  sustenance  ?  Does  He  need  any  ex- 
ternal things  in  order  to  make  His  feast?  No!  and 
Yes !  '  I  will  sup  with  Him '  as  well  as  '  He  with  me.' 
And,  surely.  His  meat  and  drink  are  the  love,  the 
loyalty,  the  obedience,  the  receptiveness,  the  society 
of  His  redeemed  children.  '  The  joy  of  the  Lord ' 
comes  from  '  seeing  of  the  travail  of  His  soul,'  and  His 
servants  do  enter  into  that  joy  in  deep  and  wondrous 
fashion.  We  not  only  shall  live  on  Christ,  but  He 
Himself  puts  to  His  own  lips  the  chalice  that  He 
commends  to  ours,  and  in  marvellous  condescension 
to,  and  identity  with,  our  glorified  humanity  drinks 
with  us  the  '  new  wine '  in  the  Father's  kingdom. 


GETHSEMANE,  THE  OIL-PRESS 

'  Then  cometh  Jesus  with  them  unto  a  place  called  Gethsemane,  and  saith  unto 
the  disciples,  Sit  ye  here,  while  I  go  and  pray  yonder.  37.  And  He  took  with  Him 
Peter  and  the  two  sons  of  Zebedee,  and  began  to  be  sorrowful  and  very  heavy. 
38.  Then  saith  He  unto  them.  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful,  even  unto  death : 
tarry  ye  here,  and  watch  with  Me.  39.  And  He  went  a  little  farther,  and  fell  on 
His  face,  and  prayed,  saying,  O  My  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from 
Me :  nevertheless  not  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou  wilt.    iH,  And  He  cometh  unto  the 


262     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxvi. 

disciples,  and  findeth  them  asleep,  and  saith  unto  Peter,  What,  could  ye  not 
watch  with  Me  one  hour?  41.  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye  enter  not  into  temptation : 
the  spirit  indeed  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak.  42.  He  went  away  again  the 
second  time,  and  prayed,  saying,  O  My  Father,  if  this  cup  may  not  pass  away  from 
Me,  except  I  drink  it.  Thy  will  be  done.  43.  And  He  came  and  found  them  asleep 
again  :  for  their  eyes  were  heavy.  44.  And  He  left  them,  and  went  away  again, 
and  prayed  the  third  time,  saying  the  same  words.  45.  Then  cometh  He  to  His 
disciples,  and  saith  unto  them,  Sleep  on  now,  and  take  your  rest:  behold, the  hour 
is  at  hand,  and  the  Son  of  Man  is  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  sinners.  46.  Rise,  let 
us  be  going:  behold,  he  is  at  hand  that  doth  betray  Me.'— Matt.  xxvi.  36-46. . 

One  shrinks  from  touching  this  incomparable  picture 
of  unexampled  sorrow,  for  fear  lest  one's  finger-marks 
should  stain  it.  There  is  no  place  here  for  picturesque 
description,  which  tries  to  mend  the  gospel  stories  by 
dressing  them  in  to-day's  fashions,  nor  for  theological 
systematisers  and  analysers  of  the  sort  that  would 
*  botanise  upon  their  mother's  grave.'  We  must  put  off 
our  shoes,  and  feel  that  we  stand  on  holy  ground. 
Though  loving  eyes  saw  something  of  Christ's  agony, 
He  did  not  let  them  come  beside  Him,  but  withdrew 
into  the  shadow  of  the  gnarled  olives,  as  if  even  the 
moonbeams  must  not  look  too  closely  on  the  mystery 
of  such  grief.  We  may  go  as  near  as  love  was  allowed 
to  go,  but  stop  where  it  was  stayed,  while  we  reverently 
and  adoringly  listen  to  what  the  Evangelist  tells  us  of 
that  unspeakable  hour. 

I.  Mark  the  '  exceeding  sorrow '  of  the  Man  of  Sor- 
rows. Somewhere  on  the  western  foot  of  Olivet  lay 
the  garden,  named  from  an  oil-press  formerly  or  then 
in  it,  which  was  to  be  the  scene  of  the  holiest  and  sorest 
sorrow  on  which  the  moon,  that  has  seen  so  much 
misery,  has  ever  looked.  Truly  it  was  '  an  oil-press,' 
in  which  '  the  good  olive '  was  crushed  by  the  grip  of 
unparalleled  agony,  and  yielded  precious  oil,  which  has 
been  poured  into  many  a  wound  since  then.  Eight  of 
the  eleven  are  left  at  or  near  the  entrance,  while  He 
passes  deeper  into  the  shadows  with  the  three.  They 
had  been  witnesses  of  His  prayers  once  before,  on  the 


vs.  30-46]  GETHSEMANE  263 

slopes  of  Hermon,  when  He  was  transfigured  before 
them.  They  are  now  to  see  a  no  less  wonderful  revela- 
tion of  His  glory  in  His  filial  submission.  There  is 
something  remarkable  in  Matthew's  expression,  '  He 
began  to  be  sorrowful,' — as  if  a  sudden  wave  of  emotion, 
breaking  over  His  soul,  had  swept  His  human  sensi- 
bilities before  it.  The  strange  word  translated  by  the 
Revisers  '  sore  troubled '  is  of  uncertain  derivation, 
and  may  possibly  be  simply  intended  to  intensify  the 
idea  of  sorrow ;  but  more  probably  it  adds  another 
element,  which  Bishop  Lightfoot  describes  as  '  the  con- 
fused, restless,  half-distracted  state  which  is  produced 
by  physical  derangement  or  mental  distress.'  A  storm 
of  agitation  and  bewilderment  broke  His  calm,  and 
forced  from  His  patient  lips,  little  wont  to  speak  of  His 
own  emotions,  or  to  seek  for  sympathy,  the  unutterably 
pathetic  cry,  '  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful ' — com- 
passed about  with  sorrow,  as  the  word  means — '  even 
unto  death.'  No  feeble  explanation  of  these  words 
does  justice  to  the  abyss  of  woe  into  which  they  let  us 
dimly  look.  They  tell  the  fact,  that,  a  little  more  and 
the  body  would  have  sunk  under  the  burden.  He  knew 
the  limits  of  human  endurance,  for  'all  things  were 
made  by  Him,'  and,  knowing  it,  He  saw  that  He  had 
grazed  the  very  edge.  Out  of  the  darkness  He  reaches 
a  hand  to  feel  for  the  grasp  of  a  friend,  and  piteously 
asks  these  humble  lovers  to  stay  beside  Him,  not  that 
they  could  help  Him  to  bear  the  weight,  but  that  their 
presence  had  some  solace  in  it.  His  agony  must  be 
endured  alone,  therefore  He  bade  them  tarry  there; 
but  He  desired  to  have  them  at  hand,  therefore  He 
went  but  '  a  little  forward.'  They  could  not  bear  it 
with  Him,  but  they  could  '  watch  with  '  Him,  and  that 
poor  comfort  is  all  He  asks.    No  word  came  from  them. 


264     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.J-xvi. 

They  were,  no  doubt,  awed  into  silence,  as  the  truest 
sympathy  is  used  to  be,  in  the  presence  of  a  grea^  grief. 
Is  it  permitted  us  to  ask  what  were  the  fountains  of 
these  bitter  floods  that  swept  over  Christ's  sinle:3S  soul  ? 
"Was  the  mere  physical  shrinking  from  death  all  ?  If 
so,  we  may  reverently  say  that  many  a  maiden  and  old 
man,  who  drew  all  their  fortitude  from  Jesus,  have 
gone  to  stake  or  gibbet  for  His  sake,  with  a  calm  which 
contrasts  strangely  with  His  agitation.  Gethsemane 
is  robbed  of  its  pathos  and  nobleness  if  that  be  all.  But 
it  was  not  all.  Rather  it  was  the  least  bitter  of  the 
components  of  the  cup.  What  lay  before  Him  was  not 
merely  death,  but  the  death  which  was  to  atone  for  a 
world's  sin,  and  in  which,  therefore,  the  whole  weight 
of  sin's  consequences  was  concentrated.  '  The  Lord 
hath  made  to  meet  on  Him  the  iniquities  of  us  all'; 
that  is  the  one  sufficient  explanation  of  this  infinitely 
solemn  and  tender  scene.  Unless  we  believe  that,  we 
shall  find  it  hard  to  reconcile  His  agitation  in  Geth- 
semane with  the  perfection  of  His  character  as  the 
captain  of  '  the  noble  army  of  martyrs.' 

II.  Note  the  prayer  of  filial  submission.  Matthew 
does  not  tell  us  of  the  sweat  falling  audibly  and  heavily, 
and  sounding  to  the  three  like  slow  blood-drops  from  a 
wound,  nor  of  the  strengthening  angel,  but  he  gives  us 
the  prostrate  form,  and  the  threefold  prayer,  renewed 
as  each  moment  of  calm,  won  by  it,  was  again  broken 
in  upon  by  a  fresh  wave  of  emotion.  Thrice  He  had  to 
leave  the  disciples,  and  came  back,  a  calm  conqueror ; 
and  twice  the  enemy  rallied  and  returned  to  the  assault, 
and  was  at  last  driven  finally  from  the  field  by  the 
power  of  prayer  and  submission.  The  three  Synoptics 
differ  in  their  report  of  our  Lord's  words,  but  all  mean 
the  same  thing  in  substance;  and  it  is  obvious  that 


Ts.  36-46]  GETHSEMANE  265 

much  more  must  have  been  spoken  than  they  report. 
Possibly  what  we  have  is  only  the  fragments  that 
reached  the  three  before  they  fell  asleep.  In  any  case, 
Jesus  was  absent  from  them  on  each  occasion  long 
enough  to  allow  of  their  doing  so. 

Three  elements  are  distinguishable  in  our  Lord's 
prayer.  There  is,  first,  the  sense  of  Sonship,  which 
underlies  all,  and  was  never  more  clear  than  at  that 
awful  moment.  Then  there  is  the  recoil  from  '  the  cup,' 
which  natural  instinct  could  not  but  feel,  though  sin- 
lessly.  The  flesh  shrank  from  the  Cross,  which  else  had 
been  no  suffering ;  and  if  no  suffering,  then  had  been 
no  atonement.  His  manhood  would  not  have  been  like 
ours,  nor  His  sorrows  our  pattern,  if  He  had  not  thus 
drawn  back,  in  His  sensitive  humanity,  from  the  awful 
prospect  now  so  near.  But  natural  instinct  is  one 
thing,  and  the  controlling  will  another.  However 
currents  may  have  tossed  the  vessel,  the  firm  hand  at 
the  helm  never  suffered  them  to  change  her  course. 
The  will,  which  in  this  prayer  He  seems  so  strangely  to 
separate  from  the  Father's,  even  in  the  act  of  submis- 
sion, was  the  will  which  wishes,  not  that  which  resolves. 
His  fixed  purpose  to  die  for  the  world's  sin  never 
wavered.  The  shrinking  does  not  reach  the  point  of 
absolutely  and  unconditionally  asking  that  the  cup 
might  pass.  Even  in  the  act  of  uttering  the  wish,  it  is 
limited  by  that  *  if  it  be  possible,'  which  can  only  mean 
— possible,  in  view  of  the  great  purpose  for  which  He 
came.  That  is  to  be  accomplished,  at  any  cost;  and 
unless  it  can  be  accomplished  though  the  cup  be  with- 
drawn, He  does  not  even  wish,  much  less  will,  that  it 
should  be  withdrawn.  So,  the  third  element  in  the 
prayer  is  the  utter  resignation  to  the  Father's  will,  in 
which  submission  He  found  peace,  as  we  do. 


266     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

He  prayed  His  way  to  perfect  calm,  which  is  ever  the 
companion  of  perfect  self-surrender  to  God.  They  who 
cease  from  their  own  works  do  '  enter  into  rest.*  All 
the  agitations  which  had  come  storming  in  massed 
battalions  against  Him  are  defeated  by  it.  They  have 
failed  to  shake  His  purpose,  they  now  fail  even  to 
disturb  His  peace.  So,  victorious  from  the  dreadful 
conflict,  and  at  leisure  of  heart  to  care  for  others.  He 
can  go  back  to  the  disciples.  But  even  whilst  seeking 
to  help  them,  a  fresh  wave  of  suffering  breaks  in  on 
His  calm,  and  once  again  He  leaves  them  to  renew  the 
struggle.  The  instinctive  shrinking  reasserts  itself, 
and,  though  overcome,  is  not  eradicated.  But  the 
second  prayer  is  yet  more  rooted  in  acquiescence  than 
the  first.  It  shows  that  He  had  not  lost  what  He  had 
won  by  the  former ;  for  it,  as  it  were,  builds  on  that 
first  supplication,  and  accepts  as  answer  to  its  contin- 
gent petition  the  consciousness,  accompanying  the  calm, 
that  it  was  not  possible  for  the  cup  to  pass  from  Him. 
The  sense  of  Sonship  underlies  the  complete  resigna- 
tion of  the  second  prayer  as  of  the  first.  It  has  no  wish 
but  God's  will,  and  is  the  voluntary  offering  of  Himself. 
Here  He  is  both  Priest  and  Sacrifice,  and  offers  the 
victim  with  this  prayer  of  consecration.  So  once  more 
He  triumphs,  because  once  more,  and  yet  more  com- 
pletely. He  submits,  and  accepts  the  Cross.  For  Him, 
as  for  us,  the  Cross  accepted  ceases  to  be  a  pain,  and  the 
cup  is  no  more  bitter  when  we  are  content  to  drink  it. 
Once  more  in  fainter  fashion  the  enemy  came  on,  cast- 
ing again  his  spent  arrows,  and  beaten  back  by  the 
same  weapon.  The  words  were  the  same,  because  no 
others  could  have  expressed  more  perfectly  the  sub- 
mission which  was  the  heart  of  His  prayers  and  the 
condition  of  His  victory. 


Ys.  36-46]  GETHSEMANE  267 

Christ's  prayer,  then,  was  not  for  the  passing  of  the 
cup,  but  that  the  will  of  God  might  be  done  in  and  by 
Him,  and  '  He  was  heard  in  that  He  feared,'  not  by  being 
exempted  from  the  Cross,  but  by  being  strengthened 
through  submission  for  submission.  So  His  agony  is 
the  pattern  of  all  true  prayer,  which  must  ever  deal 
with  our  wishes,  as  He  did  with  His  instinctive  shrink- 
ing,— present  them  wrapped  in  an  'if  it  be  possible,' 
and  followed  by  a  'nevertheless.'  The  meaning  of 
prayer  is  not  to  force  our  wills  on  God's,  but  to  bend 
our  wills  to  His ;  and  that  prayer  is  really  answered  of 
which  the  issue  is  our  calm  readiness  for  all  that  He 
lays  upon  us. 

ni.  Note  the  sad  and  gentle  remonstrance  with  the 
drowsy  three.  '  The  sleep  of  the  disciples,  and  of  these 
disciples,  and  of  all  three,  and  such  an  overpowering 
sleep,  remains  even  after  Luke's  explanation,  "  for 
sorrow,"  a  psychological  riddle'  {Meyer).  It  is  singu- 
larly parallel  with  the  sleep  of  the  same  three  at  the 
Transfiguration — an  event  which  presents  the  opposite 
pole  of  our  Lord's  experiences,  and  yields  so  many 
antithetical  parallels  to  Gethsemane.  No  doubt  the 
tension  of  emotion,  which  had  lasted  for  many  hours, 
had  worn  them  out ;  but,  if  weariness  had  weighed 
down  their  eyelids,  love  should  have  kept  them  open. 
Such  sleep  of  such  disciples  may  have  been  a  riddle, 
but  it  was  also  a  crime,  and  augured  imperfect  sym- 
pathy. Gentle  surprise  and  the  pain  of  disappointed 
love  are  audible  in  the  question,  addressed  to  Peter 
especially,  as  he  had  promised  so  much,  but  meant  for 
all.  This  was  all  that  Jesus  got  in  answer  to  His  yearn- 
ing for  sympathy.  '  I  looked  for  some  to  take  pity,  but 
there  was  none.'  Those  who  loved  Him  most  lay  curled 
in  dead  slumber  within  earshot  of  His  prayers.    If  ever 


268     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

a  soul  tasted  the  desolation  of  utter  loneliness,  that 
suppliant  beneath  the  olives  tasted  it.  But  how  little 
of  the  pain  escapes  His  lips !  The  words  but  hint  at 
the  slightness  of  their  task  compared  with  His,  at  the 
brevity  of  the  strain  on  their  love,  and  at  the  com- 
panionship which  ought  to  have  made  sleep  impossible. 
May  we  not  see  in  Christ's  remonstrance  a  word  for 
all?  For  us,  too,  the  task  of  keeping  awake  in  the 
enchanted  ground  is  light,  measured  against  His,  and 
the  time  is  short,  and  we  have  Him  to  keep  us  company 
in  the  watch,  and  every  motive  of  grateful  love  should 
make  it  easy ;  but,  alas,  how  many  of  us  sleep  a  drugged 
and  heavy  slumber ! 

The  gentle  remonstrance  soon  passes  over  into  counsel 
as  gentle.  Watchfulness  and  prayer  are  inseparable. 
The  one  discerns  dangers,  the  other  arms  against  them. 
Watchfulness  keeps  us  prayerful,  and  prayerfulness 
keeps  us  watchful.  To  watch  without  praying  is  pre- 
sumption, to  pray  without  watching  is  hypocrisy.  The 
eye  that  sees  clearly  the  facts  of  life  will  turn  upwards 
from  its  scanning  of  the  snares  and  traps,  and  will 
not  look  in  vain.  These  two  are  the  indispensable 
conditions  of  victorious  encountering  of  temptation. 
Fortified  by  them,  we  shall  not '  enter  into  '  it,  though 
we  encounter  it.  The  outward  trial  will  remain,  but 
its  power  to  lead  us  astray  will  vanish.  It  will  still  be 
danger  or  sorrow,  but  it  will  not  be  temptation ;  and 
we  shall  pass  through  it,  as  a  sunbeam  through  foul 
air,  untainted,  and  keeping  heaven's  radiance.  That  is 
a  lesson  for  a  wider  circle  than  the  sleepy  three. 

It  is  followed  by  words  which  would  need  a  volume 
to  expound  in  all  their  depth  and  width  of  application, 
but  which  are  primarily  a  reason  for  the  preceding 
counsel,  as  well  as  a  loving  apology  for  the  disciples' 


vs.  36-46]  GETHSEMANE  269 

sleep.  Christ  is  always  glad  to  give  us  credit  for  even 
imperfect  good ;  His  eye,  which  sees  deeper  than  ours, 
sees  more  lovingly,  and  is  not  hindered  from  marking 
the  willing  spirit  by  recognising  weak  flesh.  But  these 
words  are  not  to  be  made  a  pillow  for  indolent  acqui- 
escence in  the  limitations  which  the  flesh  imposes  on  the 
spirit.  He  may  take  merciful  count  of  these,  and  so  may 
we,  in  judging  others,  but  it  is  fatal  to  plead  them  at 
the  bar  of  our  own  consciences.  Rather  they  should  be 
a  spur  to  our  watchfulness  and  to  our  prayer.  We  need 
these  because  the  flesh  is  weak,  still  more  because,  in 
its  weakness  toward  good,  it  is  strong  to  evil.  Such 
exercise  will  give  governing  power  to  the  spirit,  and 
enable  it  to  impose  its  will  on  the  reluctant  flesh.  If 
we  watch  and  pray,  the  conflict  between  these  two 
elements  in  the  renewed  nature  will  tend  to  unity  and 
peace  by  the  supremacy  of  the  spirit ;  if  we  do  not,  it 
will  tend  to  cease  by  the  unquestioned  tyranny  of 
the  flesh.  In  one  or  other  direction  our  lives  are 
tending. 

Strange  that  such  words  had  no  effect.  But  so  it 
was,  and  so  deep  was  the  apostles'  sleep  that  Christ 
left  them  undisturbed  the  second  time.  The  relapse  is 
worse  than  the  original  disease.  Sleep  broken  and 
resumed  is  more  torpid  and  fatal  than  if  it  had  not  been 
interrupted.  We  do  not  know  how  long  it  lasted, 
though  the  whole  period  in  the  garden  must  have  been 
measured  by  hours ;  but  at  last  it  was  broken  by  the 
enigmatical  last  words  of  our  Lord.  The  explanation 
of  the  direct  opposition  between  the  consecutive  sen- 
tences, by  taking  the  '  Sleep  on  now '  as  ironical,  jars 
on  one's  reverence.  Surely  irony  is  out  of  keeping  with 
the  spirit  of  Christ  then.  Rather  He  bids  them  sleep 
on,  since  the  hour  is  come,  in  sad  recognition  that  the 


270     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

need  for  their  watchful  sympathy  is  past,  and  with  it 
the  opportunity  for  their  proved  affection.  It  is  said 
with  a  tone  of  contemplative  melancholy,  and  is  almost 
equivalent  to  'too  late,  too  late.'  The  memorable 
sermon  of  F.  W.  Robertson,  on  this  text,  rightly  grasps 
the  spirit  of  the  first  clause,  when  it  dwells  with  such 
power  on  the  thought  of  '  the  irrevocable  past '  of 
wasted  opportunities  and  neglected  duty.  But  the 
sudden  transition  to  the  sharp,  short  command  and 
broken  sentences  of  the  last  verse  is  to  be  accounted 
for  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  the  flashing  lights  of 
the  band  led  by  Judas,  somewhere  near  at  hand,  in  the 
valley.  The  mood  of  pensive  reflection  gives  place  to 
rapid  decision.  He  summons  them  to  arise,  not  for 
flight,  but  that  He  may  go  out  to  meet  the  traitor. 
Escape  would  have  been  easy.  There  was  time  to  reach 
some  sheltering  fold  of  the  hill  in  the  darkness ;  but  the 
prayer  beneath  the  silver-grey  olives  had  not  been  in 
vain,  and  these  last  words  in  Gethsemane  throb  with 
the  Son's  willingness  to  yield  Himself  up,  and  to  empty 
to  its  dregs  the  cup  which  the  Father  had  given  Him. 


THE  LAST  PLEADING  OF  LOVE 

'And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Friend,  wherefore  art  thou  come?  '—Matt.  xxvi.  50. 

We  are  accustomed  to  think  of  the  betrayer  of  our 
Lord  as  a  kind  of  monster,  whose  crime  is  so  mysterious 
in  its  atrocity  as  to  put  him  beyond  the  pale  of  human 
sympathy.  The  awful  picture  which  the  great  Italian 
poet  draws  of  him  as  alone  in  hell,  shunned  even 
there,  as  guilty  beyond  all  others,  expresses  the  general 
feeling  about  him.  And  even  the  attempts  which  have 
been  made  to  diminish  the  greatness  of  his  guilt,  by 


V.  50J       LAST  PLEADING  OF  LOVE         271 

supposing  that  his  motive  was  only  to  precipitate 
Christ's  assumption  of  His  conquering  Messianic  power, 
are  prompted  by  the  same  thought  that  such  treason 
as  his  is  all  but  inconceivable.  I  cannot  but  think  that 
these  attempts  fail,  and  that  the  narratives  of  the 
Gospels  oblige  us  to  think  of  his  crime  as  deliberate 
treachery.  But  even  when  so  regarded,  other  emotions 
than  wondering  loathing  should  be  excited  by  the 
awful  story. 

There  had  been  nothing  in  his  previous  history  to 
suggest  such  sin,  as  is  proved  by  the  disciples'  question, 
when  our  Lord  announced  that  one  of  them  should 
betray  Him.  No  suspicion  lighted  on  him — no  finger 
pointed  to  where  he  sat.  But  self-distrust  asked,  *  Lord, 
is  it  I  ? '  and  only  love,  pillowed  on  the  Master's  breast, 
and  strong  in  the  happy  sense  of  His  love,  was  suffi- 
ciently assured  of  its  own  constancy,  to  change  the  ques- 
tion into  '  Lord !  who  is  it  ? '  The  process  of  corruption 
was  unseen  by  all  eyes  but  Christ's.  He  came  to  his 
terrible  pre-eminence  in  crime  by  slow  degrees,  and  by 
paths  which  we  may  all  tread.  As  for  his  guilt,  that  is 
in  other  hands  than  ours.  As  for  his  fate,  let  us  copy 
the  solemn  and  pitying  reticence  of  Peter,  and  say, 
'  that  he  might  go  to  his  own  place ' — the  place  that 
belongs  to  him,  and  that  he  is  fit  for,  wherever  that  may 
be.  As  for  the  growth  and  development  of  his  sin,  let 
us  remember  that  '  we  have  all  of  us  one  human  heart,' 
and  that  the  possibilities  of  crime  as  dark  are  in  us  all. 
And  instead  of  shuddering  abhorrence  at  a  sin  that 
can  scarcely  be  understood,  and  can  never  be  repeated, 
let  us  be  sure  that  whatever  man  has  done,  man  may 
do,  and  ask  with  humble  consciousness  of  our  own 
deceitful  hearts,  '  Lord,  is  it  I  ? ' 

These  remarkable  and  solemn  words  of  Christ,  with 


272     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

which  He  meets  the  treacherous  kiss,  appear  to  be  a 
last  appeal  to  Judas.  They  may  possibly  not  be  a 
question,  as  in  our  version — but  an  incomplete  sentence, 
'  What  thou  hast  come  to  do ' — leaving  the  implied 
command, '  That  do,'  unexpressed.  They  would  then  be 
very  like  other  words  which  the  betrayer  had  heard 
but  an  hour  or  two  before, '  That  thou  doest,  do  quickly.' 
But  such  a  rendering  does  not  seem  so  appropriate  to 
the  circumstances  as  that  which  makes  them  a  question, 
smiting  on  his  heart  and  conscience,  and  seeking  to 
tear  away  the  veil  of  sophistications  with  which  he 
had  draped  from  his  own  eyes  the  hideous  shape  of  his 
crime.  And,  if  so,  what  a  wonderful  instance  we  have 
here  of  that  long-suffering  love.  They  are  the  last 
effort  of  the  divine  patience  to  win  back  even  the 
traitor.  They  show  us  the  wrestle  between  infinite 
mercy  and  a  treacherous,  sinful  heart,  and  they  bring 
into  awful  prominence  the  power  which  that  heart  has 
of  rejecting  the  counsel  of  God  against  itself.  I  venture 
to  use  them  now  as  suggesting  these  three  things  :  the 
patience  of  Christ's  love ;  the  pleading  of  Christ's  love ; 
and  the  refusal  of  Christ's  love. 

I.  The  patience  of  Christ's  love. 

If  we  take  no  higher  view  of  this  most  pathetic 
incident  than  that  the  words  come  from  a  man's  lips, 
even  then  all  its  beauty  will  not  be  lost.  There  are 
some  sins  against  friendship  in  which  the  manner  is 
harder  to  bear  than  the  substance  of  the  evil.  It  must 
have  been  a  strangely  mean  and  dastardly  nature,  as 
well  as  a  coarse  and  cold  one,  that  could  think  of  fixing 
on  the  kiss  of  affection  as  the  concerted  sign  to  point 
out  their  victim  to  the  legionaries.  Many  a  man  who 
could  have  planned  and  executed  the  treason  would 
have  shrunk  from  that.     And  many  a  man  who  could 


V.  50]       LAST  PLEADING  OF  LOVE         273 

have  borne  to  be  betrayed  by  his  own  familiar  friend 
would  have  found  that  heartless  insult  worse  to  endure 
than  the  treason  itself.  But  what  a  picture  of  perfect 
patience  and  unruffled  calm  we  have  here,  in  that  the 
answer  to  the  poisonous,  hypocritical  embrace  was 
these  moving  words!  The  touch  of  the  traitor's  lips 
has  barely  left  His  cheek,  but  not  one  faint  passing 
flush  of  anger  tinges  it.  He  is  perfectly  self-oblivious 
— absorbed  in  other  thoughts,  and  among  them  in  pity 
for  the  guilty  wretch  before  Him.  His  words  have  no 
agitation  in  them,  no  instinctive  recoil  from  the  pollu- 
tion of  such  a  salutation.  They  have  grave  rebuke, 
but  it  is  rebuke  which  derives  its  very  force  from  the 
appeal  to  former  companionship.  Christ  still  recog- 
nises the  ancient  bond,  and  is  true  to  it.  He  will  still 
plead  with  this  man  who  has  been  beside  Him  long ; 
and  though  His  heart  be  wounded  yet  He  is  not  wroth, 
and  He  will  not  cast  him  off.  If  this  were  nothing 
more  than  a  picture  of  human  friendship  it  would 
stand  alone,  above  all  other  records  that  the  world 
cherishes  in  its  inmost  heart,  of  the  love  that  never 
fails,  and  is  not  soon  angry. 

But  we,  I  hope,  dear  brethren,  think  more  loftily  and 
more  truly  of  our  dear  Lord  than  as  simply  a  perfect 
manhood,  the  exemplar  of  all  goodness.  How  He 
comes  to  be  that,  if  He  be  not  more  than  that,  I  do  not 
understand,  and  I,  for  one,  feel  that  my  confidence  in 
the  flawless  completeness  of  His  human  character  lives 
or  dies  with  my  belief  that  He  is  the  Eternal  Word,  God 
manifest  in  the  flesh.  Certainly  we  shall  never  truly 
grasp  the  blessed  meaning  of  His  life  on  earth  until  we 
look  upon  it  all  as  the  revelation  of  God.  The  tears  of 
Christ  are  the  pity  of  God.  The  gentleness  of  Jesus  is 
the  long-suffering  of  God.  The  tenderness  of  Jesus  is 
VOL.  HI.  s 


274     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

the  love  of  God.  *  He  that  hath  seen  Me  hath  seen  the 
Father ' ;  and  all  that  life  so  beautiful  but  so  anomalous 
as  to  be  all  but  incredible,  when  we  think  of  it  as  only 
the  life  of  a  man,  glows  with  a  yet  fairer  beauty,  and 
corresponds  with  the  nature  which  it  expresses,  when 
we  think  of  it  as  being  the  declaration  to  us  by  the 
divine  Son  of  the  divine  Father — our  loftiest,  clearest, 
and  authentic  revelation  of  God. 

How  that  thought  lifts  these  words  before  us  into  a 
still  higher  region !  We  are  now  in  the  presence  of  the 
solemn  greatness  of  a  divine  love.  If  the  meaning  of 
this  saying  is  what  we  have  suggested,  it  is  pathetic 
even  in  the  lower  aspect,  but  how  infinitely  that  pathos 
is  deepened  when  we  view  it  in  the  higher ! 

Surely  if  ever  there  was  a  man  who  might  have  been 
supposed  to  be  excluded  from  the  love  of  God,  it  was 
Judas.  Surely  if  ever  there  was  a  moment  in  a  human 
life,  when  one  might  have  supposed  that  even  Christ's 
ever  open  heart  would  shut  itself  together  against 
any  one,  it  was  this  moment.  But  no,  the  betrayer  in 
the  very  instant  of  his  treason  has  that  changeless 
tenderness  lingering  around  him,  and  that  merciful 
hand  beckoning  to  him  still. 

And  have  we  not  a  right  to  generalise  this  wonderful 
fact,  and  to  declare  its  teaching  to  be — that  the  love  of 
God  is  extended  to  us  all,  and  cannot  be  made  to  turn 
away  from  us  by  any  sins  of  ours  ?  Sin  is  mighty  ;  it 
can  work  endless  evils  on  us ;  it  can  disturb  and  em- 
bitter all  our  relations  with  God;  it  can,  as  we  shall 
presently  have  to  point  out,  make  it  necessary  for  the 
tenderest '  grace  of  God  to  come  disciplining ' — to  '  come 
with  a  rod,'  just  because  it  comes  in  '  the  spirit  of 
meekness.'  But  one  thing  it  cannot  do,  and  that  is^- 
make  God  cease  to  love   us.      I  suppose  all  human 


V.50]       LAST  PLEADING  OF  LOVE         275 

affection  can  be  worn  out  by  constant  failure  to  evoke 
a  response  from  cold  hearts.  I  suppose  that  it  can  be 
so  nipped  by  frosts,  so  constantly  checked  in  blossom- 
ing, that  it  shrivels  and  dies.  I  suppose  that  constant 
ingratitude,  constant  indifference  can  turn  the  warmest 
springs  of  our  love  to  a  river  of  ice.  'Can  a  mother 
forget  her  child  ? — Yea,  she  may  forget.'  But  we  have 
to  do  with  a  God,  whose  love  is  His  very  being ;  who 
loves  us  not  for  reasons  in  us  but  in  Himself ;  whose 
love  is  eternal  and  boundless  as  all  His  nature ;  whose 
love,  therefore,  cannot  be  turned  away  by  our  sin — 
but  abides  with  us  for  ever,  and  is  granted  to  every 
soul  of  man.  Dear  brethren,  we  cannot  believe  too 
firmly,  we  cannot  trust  too  absolutely,  we  cannot 
proclaim  too  broadly  that  blessed  thought,  without 
which  we  have  no  hope  to  feed  on  for  ourselves,  or 
to  share  with  our  fellows — the  universal  love  of  God 
in  Christ. 

Is  there  a  worst  man  on  earth  at  this  moment  ?  If 
there  be,  he,  too,  has  a  share  in  that  love.  Harlots  and 
thieves,  publicans  and  sinners,  leprous  outcasts,  and 
souls  tormented  by  unclean  spirits,  the  wrecks  of 
humanity  whom  decent  society  and  respectable  Chris- 
tianity passes  by  with  averted  head  and  uplifted 
hands,  criminals  on  the  gibbet  with  the  rope  round 
their  necks — and  those  who  are  as  hopeless  as  any  of 
these,  self-complacent  formalists  and  *  Gospel-hardened 
professors ' — all  have  a  place  in  that  heart.  And  that, 
not  as  undistinguished  members  of  a  class,  but  as 
separate  souls,  singly  the  objects  of  God's  knowledge 
and  love.  He  loves  all,  because  He  loves  each.  We 
are  not  massed  together  in  His  view,  nor  in  His  regard. 
He  does  not  lose  the  details  in  the  whole ;  as  we, 
looking  on  some  great  crowd   of  upturned  faces,  are 


276      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.xxvi. 

conscious  of  all  but  recognise  no  single  one.  He  does 
not  love  a  class — a  world — but  He  loves  the  single  souls 
that  make  it  up — you  and  me,  and  every  one  of  the 
millions  that  we  throw  together  in  the  vague  phrase, 
'the  race.'  Let  us  individualise  that  love  in  our 
thoughts  as  it  individualises  us  in  its  outflow — and 
make  our  own  the  '  exceeding  broad '  promises,  which 
include  us,  too.  '  God  loves  me ;  Christ  gave  Himself 
for  me.    I  have  a  place  in  that  royal,  tender  heart.' 

Nor  should  any  sin  make  us  doubt  this.  He  loved 
us  with  exceeding  love,  even  when  we  were  '  dead  in 
trespasses.'  He  did  not  begin  to  love  because  of  any- 
thing in  us  ;  He  will  not  cease  because  of  anything  in  us. 
We  change ;  '  He  abideth  faithful,  He  cannot  deny  Him- 
self.' As  the  sunshine  pours  down  as  willingly  and  abun- 
dantly on  filth  and  dunghills,  as  on  gold  that  glitters 
in  its  beam,  and  jewels  that  flash  back  its  lustre,  so  the 
light  and  warmth  of  that  unsetting  and  unexhausted 
source  of  life  pours  down  '  on  the  unthankful  and  on  the 
good.'  The  great  ocean  clasps  some  black  and  barren 
crag  that  frowns  against  it,  as  closely  as  with  its  waves 
it  kisses  some  fair  strand  enamelled  with  flowers  and 
fragrant  with  perfumes.  So  that  sea  of  love  in  which 
we  '  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being,'  encircles  the 
worst  with  abundant  flow.  He  Himself  sets  us  the 
pattern,  which  to  imitate  is  to  be  the  children  of  '  our 
Father  which  is  in  heaven,'  in  that  He  loves  His 
enemies,  blessing  them  that  curse,  and  doing  good  to 
them  that  hate.  He  Himself  is  what  He  has  enjoined 
us  to  be,  in  that  He  feeds  His  enemies  when  they 
hunger,  and  when  they  thirst  gives  them  drink,  heap- 
ing coals  of  fire  on  their  heads,  and  seeking  to  kindle 
in  them  thereby  the  glow  of  answering  love,  not  being 
overcome  of  their  evil,  so  that  He  repays  hate  with 


V.50]       LAST  PLEADING  OF  LOVE         277 

hate  and  scorn  with  scorn,  but  in  patient  continuance 
of  loving  kindness  seeking  to  overcome  evil  with  good. 
He  is  Himself  that  *  charity '  which  '  is  not  easily  pro- 
voked, is  not  soon  angry,  beareth  all  things,  hopeth  all 
things,  and  never  faileth.'  His  love  is  mightier  than 
all  our  sins,  and  waits  not  on  our  merits,  nor  is  turned 
away  by  our  iniquities.  *  God  so  loved  the  world  that 
He  gave  His  only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  be- 
lieve th  in  Him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting 
life; 

II.  Then,  secondly,  we  have  here — the  pleading  of 
Christ's  patient  love. 

I  have  been  trying  to  say  as  broadly  and  strongly  as 
I  can,  that  our  sins  do  not  turn  away  the  love  of  God 
in  Christ  from  us.  The  more  earnestly  we  believe  and 
proclaim  that,  the  more  needful  is  it  to  set  forth  dis- 
tinctly— and  that  not  as  limiting,  but  as  explaining  the 
truth — the  other  thought,  that  the  sin  which  does  not 
avert,  does  modify  the  expression  of,  the  love  of  God. 
Man's  sin  compels  Him  to  do  what  the  prophet  calls  his 
'strange  work' — the  work  which  is  not  dear  to  His 
heart,  nor  natural,  if  one  may  so  say,  to  His  hands — 
His  work  of  judgment. 

The  love  of  Christ  has  to  come  to  sinful  men  with 
patient  pleading  and  remonstrance,  that  it  may  enter 
their  hearts  and  give  its  blessings.  We  are  familiar 
with  a  modern  work  of  art  in  which  that  long- 
suffering  appeal  is  wonderfully  portrayed.  He  who  is 
the  Light  of  the  world  stands,  girded  with  the  royal 
mantle  clasped  with  the  priestly  breastplate,  bearing  in 
His  hand  the  lamp  of  truth,  and  there,  amidst  the  dew 
of  night  and  the  rank  hemlock,  He  pleads  for  entrance 
at  the  closed  door  which  has  no  handle  on  its  outer 
side,  and  is  hinged  to  open  only  from  within.    'I  stand 


278      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.xxvi. 

at  the  door  and  knock.  If  any  man  open  the  door,  I 
will  come  in.' 

And  in  this  incident  before  us,  we  see  represented 
not  only  the  endless  patience  of  God's  pitying  love,  but 
the  method  which  it  needs  to  take  in  order  to  reach 
the  heart. 

There  is  an  appeal  to  the  traitor's  heart,  and  an 
appeal  to  his  conscience.  Christ  would  have  him 
think  of  the  relations  that  have  so  long  subsisted 
between  them ;  and  He  would  have  him  think,  too,  of 
the  real  nature  of  the  deed  he  is  doing,  or,  perhaps,  of 
the  motives  that  impel  him.  The  grave,  sad  word,  by 
which  He  addresses  him,  is  meant  to  smite  upon  his 
heart.  The  sharp  question  which  He  puts  to  him  is 
meant  to  wake  up  his  conscience ;  and  both  taken 
together  represent  the  two  chief  classes  of  remon- 
strance which  He  brings  to  bear  upon  us  all — the  two 
great  batteries  from  which  He  assails  the  fortress  of 
our  sins. 

There  is  first,  then — Christ's  appeal  to  the  heart.  He 
tries  to  make  Judas  feel  the  considerations  that  should 
restrain  him.  The  appellation  by  which  our  Lord 
addresses  him  does  not  in  the  original  convey  quite 
so  strongly  the  idea  of  amity,  as  our  word  *  Friend ' 
does.  It  is  not  the  same  as  that  which  He  had  used  a 
few  hours  before  in  the  upper  chamber,  when  He  said, 
•  Henceforth  I  call  you  not  servants,  but  I  have  called 
you  friends. — Ye  are  My  friends  if  ye  do  whatsoever  I 
command  you.'  It  is  the  same  as  is  put  into  the  lips 
of  the  Lord  of  the  vineyard,  remonstrating  with  his 
jealous  labourer, '  Friend,  I  do  thee  no  wrong.'  There 
is  a  tone,  then,  of  less  intimate  association  and  graver 
rebuke  in  it  than  in  that  name  with  which  He  honours 
those  who  make  His  will  theirs,  and  His  word  the  law 


T.  50]       LAST  PLEADING  OF  LOVE         279 

of  their  lives.  It  does  not  speak  of  close  confidence, 
but  it  does  suggest  companionship  and  kindness  on 
the  part  of  the  speaker.  There  is  rebuke  in  it,  but  it  is 
rebuke  which  derives  its  whole  force  from  the  remem- 
brance of  ancient  concord  and  connection.  Our  Lord 
would  recall  to  the  memory  of  the  betrayer  the  days 
in  which  they  had  taken  sweet  counsel  together.  It  is 
as  if  He  had  said — *  Hast  thou  forgotten  all  our  former 
intercourse?  Thou  hast  eaten  My  bread,  thou  hast 
been  Mine  own  familiar  friend,  in  whom  I  trusted — 
canst  thou  lift  up  thy  heel  against  Me  ? '  What  happy 
hours  of  quiet  fellowship  on  many  a  journey,  of  rest 
together  after  many  a  day  of  toil,  what  forgotten 
thoughts  of  the  loving  devotion  and  the  glow  of  glad 
consecration  that  he  had  once  felt,  what  a  long  series 
of  proofs  of  Christ's  gentle  goodness  and  meek  wisdom 
should  have  sprung  again  to  remembrance  at  such  an 
appeal !  And  how  black  and  dastardly  would  his  guilt 
have  seemed  if  once  he  had  ventured  to  remember 
what  unexampled  friendship  he  was  sinning  against ! 

Is  it  not  so  with  us  all,  dear  brethren  ?  All  our  evils 
are  betrayals  of  Christ,  and  all  our  betrayals  of  Christ 
are  sins  against  a  perfect  friendship  and  an  unvaried 
goodness.  We,  too,  have  sat  at  His  table,  heard  His 
wisdom,  seen  His  miracles,  listened  to  His  pleadings, 
have  had  a  place  in  His  heart;  and  if  we  turn  away 
from  Him  to  do  our  own  pleasure,  and  sell  His  love  for 
a  handful  of  silver,  we  need  not  cherish  shuddering 
abhorrence  against  that  poor  wretch  who  gave  Him  up 
to  the  cross.  Oh  !  if  we  could  see  aright,  we  should  see 
our  Saviour's  meek,  sad  face  standing  between  us  and 
each  of  our  sins,  with  warning  in  the  pitying  eyes,  and 
His  pleading  voice  would  sound  in  our  ears,  appealing 
to  us  by  loving  remembrances  of  His  ancient  friendship. 


280     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

to  turn  from  the  evil  which  is  treason  against  Him, 
and  wounds  His  heart  as  much  as  it  harms  ours.  Take 
heed  lest  in  condemning  the  traitor  we  doom  ourselves. 
If  we  flush  into  anger  at  the  meanness  of  his  crime, 
and  declare,  '  He  shall  surely  die,'  do  we  not  hear  a 
prophet's  voice  saying  to  each,  *  Thou  art  the  man '  ? 

The  loving  hand  laid  on  the  heart-strings  is  followed 
by  a  strong  stroke  on  conscience.  The  heart  vibrates 
most  readily  in  answer  to  gentle  touches :  the  con- 
science, in  answer  to  heavier,  as  the  breath  that  wakes 
the  chords  of  an  ^olian  harp  would  pass  silent  through 
the  brass  of  a  trumpet.  *  Wherefore  art  thou  come  ? ' — 
if  to  be  taken  as  a  question  at  all,  which,  as  I  have 
said,  seems  most  natural,  is  either,  *  What  hast  thou 
come  to  do?' — or,  'Why  hast  thou  come  to  do  it?' 
Perhaps  it  may  be  fairly  taken  as  including  both.  But, 
at  all  events,  it  is  clearly  an  appeal  to  Judas  to  make 
him  see  what  his  conduct  really  is  in  itself,  and  possibly 
in  its  motive  too.  And  this  is  the  constant  effort  of 
the  love  of  Christ — to  get  us  to  say  to  ourselves  the 
real  name  of  what  we  are  about. 

We  cloak  our  sins  from  ourselves  with  many  wrap- 
pings, as  they  swathe  a  mummy  in  voluminous  folds. 
And  of  these  veils,  one  of  the  thickest  is  woven  by  our 
misuse  of  words  to  describe  the  very  same  thing  by 
different  names,  according  as  we  do  it,  or  another  man 
does  it.  Almost  all  moral  actions— the  thing  to  which 
we  can  apply  the  words  right  or  wrong — have  two  or 
more  names,  of  which  the  one  suggests  the  better  and 
the  other  the  worse  side  of  the  action.  For  instance 
what  in  ourselves  we  call  prudent  regard  for  our  own 
interest,  we  call,  in  our  neighbour,  narrow  selfishness ; 
what  in  ourselves  is  laudable  economy,  in  him  is  miser- 
able avarice.     We  are  impetuous,  he  is  passionate ;  we 


V.  50]       LAST  PLEADING  OF  LOVE         281 

generous,  he  lavish  ;  we  are  clever  men  of  business,  he 
is  a  rogue ;  we  sow  our  wild  oats  and  are  gay,  he  is 
dissipated.  So  we  cheat  ourselves  by  more  than  half- 
transparent  veils  of  our  own  manufacture,  which  we 
fling  round  the  ugly  features  and  misshapen  limbs  of 
these  sins  of  ours,  and  we  are  made  more  than  ever 
their  bond-slaves  thereby. 

Therefore,  it  is  the  office  of  the  truest  love  to  force 
us  to  look  at  the  thing  as  it  is.  It  would  go  some  way 
to  keep  a  man  from  some  of  his  sins  if  he  would  give 
the  thing  its  real  name.  A  distinct  conscious  statement 
to  oneself,  'Now  I  am  going  to  tell  a  lie ' — '  This  that  I  am 
doing  is  fraud' — '  This  emotion  that  I  feel  creeping  with 
devilish  warmth  about  the  roots  of  my  heart  is  revenge ' 
— and  so  on,  would  surely  startle  us  sometimes,  and  make 
us  fling  the  gliding  poison  from  our  breast,  as  a  man 
would  a  snake  that  he  found  just  lifting  its  head  from  the 
bosom  of  his  robe.  Suppose  Judas  had  answered  the 
question,  and,  gathering  himself  up,  had  looked  his 
Master  in  the  face,  and  said — '  What  have  I  come  for  ? ' 
*I  have  come  to  betray  Thee  for  thirty  pieces  of 
silver!'  Do  you  not  think  that  putting  his  guilt 
into  words  might  have  moved  even  him  to  more 
salutary  feelings  than  the  remorse  which  afterwards 
accompanied  his  tardy  discernment  of  what  he  had 
done  ?  So  the  patient  love  of  Christ  comes  rebuking, 
and  smiting  hard  on  conscience.  '  The  grace  of  God  that 
bringeth  salvation  to  all  men  hath  appeared  disciplin- 
ing ' — and  His  hand  is  never  more  gentle  than  when  it 
plucks  away  the  films  with  which  we  hide  our  sins  from 
ourselves,  and  shows  us  the  '  rottenness  and  dead  men's 
bones '  beneath  the  whited  walls  of  the  sepulchres  and 
the  velvet  of  the  coffins. 

He  must  begin  with  rebukes  that  He  may  advance  to 


282     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

blessing.  He  must  teach  us  what  is  separating  us  from 
Him  that,  learning  it,  we  may  flee  to  His  grace  to  help 
us.  There  is  no  entrance  for  the  truest  gifts  of  His 
patient  love  into  any  heart  that  has  not  yielded  to  His 
pleading  remonstrance,  and  in  lowly  penitence  has 
answered  His  question  as  He  would  have  us  answer  it, 
'Friend  and  Lover  of  my  soul,  I  have  sinned  against 
Thy  tender  heart,  against  the  unexampled  patience  of 
Thy  love.  I  have  departed  from  Thee  and  betrayed  Thee. 
Blessed  be  Thy  merciful  voice  which  hath  taught  me 
what  I  have  done !  Blessed  be  Thine  unwearied  good- 
ness which  still  bends  over  me  !  Raise  me  fallen ! 
forgive  me  treacherous!  Keep  me  safe  and  happy, 
ever  true  and  near  to  Thee  ! ' 

III.  Notice  the  possible  rejection  of  the  pleading  of 
Christ's  patient  love. 

Even  that  appeal  was  vain.  Here  we  are  confronted 
with  a  plain  instance  of  man's  mysterious  and  awful 
power  of  'frustrating  the  counsel  of  God' — of  which 
one  knows  not  whether  is  greater,  the  difficulty  of 
understanding  how  a  finite  will  can  rear  itself  against 
the  Infinite  Will,  or  the  mournful  mystery  that  a 
creature  should  desire  to  set  itself  against  its  loving 
Maker  and  Benefactor.  But  strange  as  it  is,  yet  so  it 
is  ;  and  we  can  turn  round  upon  Sovereign  Fatherhood 
bidding  us  to  its  service,  and  say,  '/  will  not.'  He 
pleads  with  us,  and  we  can  resist  His  pleadings.  He 
holds  out  the  mercies  of  His  hands  and  the  gifts  of  His 
grace,  and  we  can  reject  them.  We  cannot  cease  to  be 
the  objects  of  His  love,  but  we  can  refuse  to  be  the 
recipients  of  its  most  precious  gifts.  We  can  bar  our 
hearts  against  it.  Then,  of  what  avail  is  it  to  us  ?  To 
go  back  to  an  earlier  illustration,  the  sunshine  pours 
down  and  floods  a  world,  what  does  that  matter  to  us 


V.50]       LAST  PLEADING  OF  LOVE         283 

if  we  have  fastened  up  shutters  on  all  our  windows, 
and  barred  every  crevice  through  which  the  streaming 
gladness  can  find  its  way  ?  We  shall  grope  at  noontide 
as  in  the  dark  within  our  gloomy  house,  while  our 
neighbours  have  light  in  theirs.  What  matters  it 
though  we  float  in  the  great  ocean  of  the  divine  love, 
if  with  pitch  and  canvas  we  have  carefully  closed  every 
aperture  at  which  the  flood  can  enter  ?  A  hermetically 
closed  jar,  plunged  in  the  Atlantic,  will  be  as  dry  inside 
as  if  it  were  lying  on  the  sand  of  the  desert.  It  is 
possible  to  perish  of  thirst  within  sight  of  the  fountain. 
It  is  possible  to  separate  ourselves  from  the  love  of 
God,  not  to  separate  the  love  of  God  from  ourselves. 

The  incident  before  us  carries  another  solemn  lesson 
— how  simple  and  easy  a  thing  it  is  to  repel  that  plead- 
ing love.  What  did  Judas  do  ?  Nothing ;  it  was  enough. 
He  merely  held  his  peace — no  more.  There  was  no  need 
for  him  to  break  out  with  oaths  and  curses,  to  reject 
his  Lord  with  wild  words.  Silence  was  sufficient.  And 
for  us — no  more  is  required.  We  have  but  to  be  passive; 
we  have  but  to  stand  still.  Not  to  accept  is  to  refuse ; 
non-submission  is  rebellion.  We  do  not  need  to  em- 
phasise our  refusal  by  any  action — no  need  to  lift  our 
clenched  hands  in  defiance.  We  have  simply  to  put 
them  behind  our  backs  or  to  keep  them  folded.  The 
closed  hand  must  remain  an  empty  hand.  'He  that 
believeth  not  is  condemned.'  My  friend,  remember 
that,  when  Christ  pleads  and  draws,  to  do  nothing  is 
to  oppose,  and  to  delay  is  to  refuse.  It  is  a  very  easy 
matter  to  ruin  your  soul.  You  have  simply  to  keep 
still  when  He  says  '  Come  unto  Me ' — to  keep  your  eyes 
fixed  where  they  were,  when  He  says,  '  Look  unto  Me, 
and  be  ye  saved,'  and  all  the  rest  will  follow  of  itself. 

Notice,  too,  how  the  appeal  of  Christ's  love  hardens 


284     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxvi. 

where  it  does  not  soften.  That  gentle  voice  drove  the 
traitor  nearer  the  verge  over  which  he  fell  into  a  gulf 
of  despair.  It  should  have  drawn  him  closer  to  the 
Lord,  but  he  recoiled  from  it,  and  was  thereby  brought 
nearer  destruction.  Every  pleading  of  Christ's  grace, 
whether  by  providences,  or  by  books,  or  by  His  own 
word,  does  something  with  us.  It  is  never  vain.  Either 
it  melts  or  it  hardens.  The  sun  either  scatters  the 
,J  summer  morning  mists,  or  it  rolls  them  into  heavier 
folds,  from  whose  livid  depths  the  lightning  will  be 
flashing  by  mid-day.  You  cannot  come  near  the  most 
inadequate  exhibition  of  the  pardoning  love  of  Christ 
without  being  either  drawn  closer  to  Him  or  driven 
further  from  Him.  Each  act  of  rejection  prepares  the 
way  for  another,  which  will  be  easier,  and  adds  another 
film  to  the  darkness  which  covers  your  eyes,  another 
layer  to  the  hardness  which  incrusts  your  hearts. 

Again,  that  silence,  so  eloquent  and  potent  in  its 
influence,  was  probably  the  silence  of  a  man  whose 
conscience  was  convicted  while  his  will  was  un- 
changed. Such  a  condition  is  possible.  It  points  to 
solemn  thoughts,  and  to  deep  mysteries  in  man's 
awful  nature.  He  knew  that  he  was  wrong,  he  had 
no  excuse,  his  deed  was  before  him  in  some  measure 
in  its  true  character,  and  yet  he  would  not  give  it  up. 
Such  a  state,  if  constant  and  complete,  presents  the 
most  frightful  picture  we  can  frame  of  a  soul.  That  a 
man  shall  not  be  able  to  say,  '  I  did  it  ignorantly ' ;  that 
Christ  shall  not  be  able  to  ground  His  intercession  on, 
'  They  know  not  what  they  do ' ;  that  with  full  know- 
ledge of  the  true  nature  of  the  deed,  there  shall  be  no 
wavering  of  the  determination  to  do  it — we  may  well 
turn  with  terror  from  such  an  awful  abyss.  But  let  us 
remember  that,  whether  such  a  condition  in  its  com- 


V.  50]       LAST  PLEADING  OF  LOVE         285 

pleteness  is  conceivable  or  not,  at  all  events  we  may 
approach  it  indefinitely;  and  we  do  approach  it  by 
every  sin,  and  by  every  refusal  to  yield  to  the  love  that 
would  touch  our  consciences  and  fill  our  hearts. 

Have  you  ever  noticed  what  a  remarkable  verbal 
correspondence  there  is  between  these  words  of  our 
text,  and  some  other  very  solemn  ones  of  Christ's  ?  The 
question  that  He  puts  into  the  lips  of  the  king  who 
came  in  to  see  his  guests  is,  *  Friend,  how  earnest  thou 
in  hither,  not  having  on  a  wedding  garment?'  The 
question  asked  on  earth  shall  be  repeated  again  at 
last.  The  silence  which  once  indicated  a  convinced 
conscience  and  an  unchanged  will  may  at  that  day 
indicate  both  of  these  and  hopelessness  beside.  The 
clear  vision  of  the  divine  love,  if  it  do  not  flood 
the  heart  with  joy  and  evoke  the  bliss  of  answer- 
ing love,  may  fill  it  with  bitterness.  It  is  possible 
that  the  same  revelation  of  the  same  grace  may  be  the 
heaven  of  heaven  to  those  who  welcome  it,  and  the  pain 
of  hell  to  those  who  turn  from  it.  It  is  possible  that 
love  believed  and  received  may  be  life,  and  love  recog- 
nised and  rejected  may  be  death.  It  is  possible  that 
the  vision  of  the  same  face  may  make  some  break  forth 
with  the  rapturous  hymn,  *  Lo,  this  is  our  God,  we  have 
waited  for  Him ! '  and  make  others  call  on  the  hills  to 
fall  on  them  and  cover  them  from  its  brightness. 

But  let  us  not  end  with  such  words.  Rather,  dear 
brethren,  let  us  yield  to  His  patient  beseech ings ;  let 
Him  teach  us  our  evil  and  our  sin.  Listen  to  His 
great  love  who  invites  us  to  plead,  and  promises  to 
pardon — '  Come  now,  and  let  us  reason  together,  saith 
the  Lord :  though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be 
as  white  as  snow ;  though  they  be  red  like  crimson, 
they  shall  be  as  wool.' 


THE  REAL  HIGH  PRIEST  AND  HIS 
COUNTERFEIT 

•  And  they  that  had  laid  hold  on  Jesus  led  Him  away  to  Caiaphas  the  high  priest, 
where  the  scribes  and  the  elders  were  assembled.  58.  But  Peter  followed  Him 
afar  oflFunto  the  high  priest's  palace,  and  went  in,  and  sat  with  the  servants,  to 
see  the  end.  59.  Now  the  chief  priests,  and  elders,  and  all  the  council,  sought 
false  witness  against  Jesus,  to  put  Him  to  death  ;  60.  But  found  none  :  yea,  though 
many  false  witnesses  came,  yet  found  they  none.  At  the  last  came  two  false 
witnesses,  61.  And  said.  This  fellow  said,  I  am  able  to  destroy  the  temple  of  God, 
and  to  build  it  in  three  days.  62.  And  the  high  priest  arose,  and  said  unto  Him, 
Answerest  Thou  nothing  ?  what  is  it  which  these  witness  against  Thee  ?  63.  But 
Jesus  held  His  peace.  And  the  high  priest  answered  and  said  unto  Him,  I  adjure 
Thee  by  the  living  God,  that  Thou  tell  us  whether  Thou  be  the  Christ,  the  Son  of 
God.  64.  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Thou  hast  said :  nevertheless  I  say  unto  you. 
Hereafter  shall  ye  see  the  Son  of  Man  sitting  on  the  right  hand  of  power,  and 
coming  in  the  clouds  of  heaven.  65.  Then  the  high  priest  rent  his  clothes,  saying, 
He  hath  spoken  blasphemy  ;  what  further  need  have  we  of  witnesses?  behold,  now 
ye  have  heard  His  blasphemy.  66.  What  think  ye?  They  answered  and  said,  He 
is  guilty  of  death.  67.  Then  did  they  spit  in  His  face,  and  buffeted  Him ;  and 
others  smote  Him  with  the  palms  of  their  hands,  68.  Saying,  Prophesy  unto  us, 
Thou  Christ,  Who  is  he  that  smote  Thee?'— Matt.  xxvi.  57-68. 

John's  Gospel  teUs  us  that  Jesus  was  brought  before 
•Annas  first,'  probably  in  the  same  official  priestly 
residence  as  Caiaphas,  his  son-in-law,  occupied.  That 
preliminary  examination  brought  out  nothing  to  in- 
criminate the  prisoner,  and  was  flagrantly  illegal,  being 
an  attempt  to  entrap  Him  into  self-accusing  statements. 
It  was  baffled  by  Jesus  being  silent  first,  and  sub- 
sequently taking  His  stand  on  the  undeniable  principle 
that  a  charge  must  be  sustained  by  evidence,  not  based 
on  self -accusation.  Annas,  having  made  nothing  of  this 
strange  criminal,  '  sent  Him  bound  unto  Caiaphas.' 

A  meeting  of  the  Sanhedrin  had  been  hastily  sum- 
moned in  the  dead  of  night,  which  was  itself  an 
illegality.  Now  Jesus  stands  before  the  poor  shadow 
of  a  judicial  tribunal,  which,  though  it  was  all  that 
Rome  had  left  a  conquered  people,  was  still  entitled 
to  sit  in  judgment  on  Him.  Strange  inversion,  and 
awful  position  for  these  formalists!     And  with  sad 


vs.  57-68]    THE  REAL  HIGH  PRIEST         287 

persistence  of  bitter  prejudice  they  proceeded  to  try 
the  prisoner,  all  unaware  that  it  was  themselves,  not 
Him,  that  they  were  trying. 

They  began  wrongly,  and  betrayed  their  animus  at 
once.  They  were  sitting  there  to  inquire  whether 
Jesus  was  guilty  or  no ;  they  had  made  up  their  minds 
beforehand  that  He  was,  and  their  effort  now  was  but 
to  manufacture  some  thin  veil  of  legality  for  a  judicial 
murder.  So  they  '  sought  false  witness,  .  .  .  that  they 
might  put  Him  to  death.'  Matthew  simply  says  that 
no  evidence  sufficient  for  the  purpose  was  forthcoming ; 
Mark  adds  that  the  weak  point  was  that  the  lies  con- 
tradicted each  other.  Christ's  presence  has  a  strange, 
solemn  power  of  unmasking  our  falsehoods,  both  of 
thought  and  deed,  and  it  is  hard  to  speak  evil  of  Him 
before  His  face.  If  His  calumniators  were  confused 
when  He  stood  as  Prisoner,  what  will  they  be  when  He 
sits  as  a  Judge  ? 

Only  Matthew  and  Mark  tell  us  of  the  two  witnesses 
whose  twisted  version  of  the  word  about  '  destroying 
the  Temple  and  rebuilding  it  in  three  days '  seemed  to 
Caiaphas  serious  enough  to  require  an  answer.  Their 
mistake  was  one  which  might  have  been  made  in  good 
faith,  but  none  the  less  was  their  travesty  'false 
witness.'  Their  version  of  His  great  word  shows  how 
easily  the  teaching  of  a  lofty  soul,  passed  through  the 
popular  brain,  is  degraded,  and  made  to  mean  the 
opposite  of  what  he  had  meant  by  it.  For  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  Temple  had  appeared  in  the  saying  as  the 
Jews'  work,  and  Jesus  had  presented  Himself  in  it  as 
the  Restorer,  not  the  Destroyer,  of  the  Temple  and  of 
all  that  it  symbolised.  We  destroy.  He  rebuilds.  The 
murder  of  Jesus  was  the  suicide  of  the  nation.  Caiaphas 
and  his  council  were  even  now  pulling  down,  the  Temple. 


288     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

And  that  murder  was  tlie  destruction,  so  far  as  men 
could  effect  it,  of  the  true  '  Temple  of  His  body,'  in 
which  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  dwelt,  and  which 
was  more  gloriously  reconstituted  in  the  Resurrection. 
The  risen  Christ  rears  the  true  temple  on  earth,  for 
through  Him  the  Holy  Ghost  dwells  in  His  Church, 
which  is  collectively  '  the  Temple,'  and  in  all  believing 
spirits,  which  are  individually  'the  temples'  of  God. 
So  the  false  witnesses  distorted  into  a  lie  a  great  truth. 

The  Incarnate  Word  was  dumb  all  the  while.  He 
•  was  still  and  refrained '  Himself.  It  was  the  silence 
of  the  King  before  a  lawless  tribunal  of  rebels,  of 
patient  meekness, '  as  a  sheep  before  her  shearers ' ;  of 
innocence  that  will  not  stoop  to  defend  itself  from 
groundless  accusations  ;  of  infinite  pity  and  forbearing 
love,  which  sees  that  it  cannot  win,  but  will  not  smite. 
Jesus  is  still  silent,  but  one  day,  *  with  the  breath  of 
His  lips  shall  He  slay  the  wicked.'  Caiaphas  seems  to 
have  been  annoyed  as  well  as  surprised  at  Jesus' 
silence,  for  there  is  a  trace  of  irritation,  as  at  'con- 
tempt of  court,'  in  his  words.  But  our  Lord's  continued 
silence  appears  to  have  somewhat  awed  him,  and  the 
dawning  consciousness  of  his  dignity  is,  perhaps,  the 
reason  for  the  high  priest's  casting  aside  all  the  foolery 
of  false  witnessing,  and  coming  at  last  to  the  real 
point, — the  Messianic  claims  of  Jesus. 

Caiaphas  was  doing  his  duty  as  high  priest  in  in- 
quiring into  such  claims,  but  he  was  somewhat  late  in 
the  day,  and  he  had  made  up  his  mind  before  he  in- 
quired. What  he  wished  to  get  was  a  plain  assertion 
on  which  the  death  sentence  could  be  pronounced. 
Jesus  knew  this,  and  yet  He  answered.  But  Luke  tells 
us  that  He  first  scathingly  pointed  to  the  unreality  and 
animus  of  the  question  by  saying,  '  If  I  tell  you,  ye 


vs.  57-68]     THE  REAL  HIGH  PRIEST  289 

will  not  believe.'  But  yet  it  was  fitting  that  He  should 
solemnly,  before  the  supreme  court,  representative  of 
the  nation,  declare  that  He  was  the  Messiah,  and  that, 
if  He  was  to  be  rejected  and  condemned,  it  should  be 
on  the  ground  of  that  declaration.  Before  Caiaphas 
He  claimed  to  be  Messiah,  before  Pilate  He  claimed  to 
be  King.  Each  rejected  Him  in  the  character  that 
appealed  to  them  most.  The  many-sidedness  of  the 
perfect  Revealer  of  God  brings  Him  to  each  soul  in 
the  aspect  that  most  loudly  addresses  each.  Therefore 
the  love  in  the  appeal  and  the  guilt  in  its  rejection 
are  the  greater. 

But  Christ's  self-attestation  to  the  council  was  not 
limited  to  the  mere  claim  to  the  name  of  Messiah.  It 
disclosed  the  implications  of  that  name  in  a  way  al- 
together unlike  the  conceptions  held  by  Caiaphas. 
When  Caiaphas  put  in  apposition  '  the  Christ '  and 
•the  Son  of  God,'  he  was  not  speaking  from  the 
ordinary  Jewish  point  of  view,  but  from  some  know- 
ledge of  Christ's  teaching,  and  there  are  two  charges 
combined  into  one. 

But  Jesus'  answer,  while  plainly  claiming  to  be  the 
Messiah,  expands  itself  in  regard  to  the  claim  to  be 
•Son  of  God,'  and  shows  its  tremendous  significance. 
It  involves  participation  in  divine  authority  and 
omnipotence.  It  involves  a  future  coming  to  be  the 
Judge  of  His  judges.  It  declares  that  these  blind 
scribes  and  elders  will  see  Him  thus  exalted,  and  it 
asserts  that  all  this  is  to  begin  then  and  there  ('  hence- 
forth '),  as  if  that  hour  of  humiliation  was  to  His  con- 
sciousness the  beginning  of  His  manifestation  as  Lord, 
or,  as  John  has  it,  *the  hour  that  the  Son  of  Man 
should  be  glorified.'  Nor  must  we  leave  out  of  sight 
the  fact  that  it  is  '  the  Son  of  Man '  of  whom  all  this 

VOL.  III.  T 


290     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

is  said,  for  thereby  are  indicated  the  raising  of  Hia 
perfect  humanity  to  participation  in  Deity,  and  the 
possibility  that  His  brethren,  too,  may  sit  where  He 
sits.  Much  was  veiled  in  the  answer  to  the  council, 
much  is  veiled  to  us.  But  this  remains, — that  Jesus, 
at  that  supreme  moment,  when  He  was  bound  to  leave 
no  misunderstandings,  made  the  plainest  claim  to 
divinity,  and  could  have  saved  His  life  if  He  had  not 
done  so.  Either  Caiaphas,  in  his  ostentatious  horror 
of  such  impiety,  was  right  in  calling  Christ's  words 
blasphemy,  and  not  far  wrong  in  inferring  that  Jesus 
was  not  fit  to  live,  or  He  is  the  everlasting  '  Son  of 
the  Father,'  and  will '  come  to  be  our  Judge.' 


JESUS  CHARGED  WITH  BLASPHEMY 

•  Then  the  high  priest  rent  his  clothes,  saying,  He  hath  spoken  blasphemy ;  what 
further  need  have  we  of  witnesses?'— Matt.  xxvi.  65. 

Jesus  was  tried  and  condemned  by  two  tribunals,  the 
Jewish  ecclesiastical  and  the  Roman  civil.  In  each 
case  the  charge  corresponded  to  the  Court.  The  San- 
hedrin  took  no  cognisance  of,  and  had  no  concern  with, 
rebellion  against  Csesar  ;  though  for  the  time  they  pre- 
tended loyalty.  Pilate  had  still  less  concern  about 
Jewish  superstitions.  And  so  the  investigation  in  each 
case  turned  on  a  different  question.  In  the  one  it  was, 
•  Art  Thou  the  Son  of  God  ? '  in  the  other,  *  Art  Thou  the 
King  of  Israel?'  The  answer  to  both  was  a  simple 
'  Yes  ! '  but  with  very  significant  differences.  Pilate 
received  an  explanation ;  the  Sanhedrin  none.  The 
Roman  governor  was  taught  that  Christ's  title  of 
King  belonged  to  another  region  altogether  from  that 
of  Csesar,  and  did  not  in  the  slightest  degree  infringe 


V.  65]    CHARGED  WITH  BLASPHEMY     291 

upon  the  dominion  that  he  represented.  But  '  Son  of 
God '  was  capable  of  no  explanation  that  could  make 
it  any  less  offensive ;  and  the  only  thing  to  be  done 
was  to  accept  it  or  to  condemn  Him. 

So  this  saying  of  the  high  priest  differs  from  other 
words  of  our  Lord's  antagonists,  which  we  have  been 
considering  in  recent  pages,  in  that  it  is  no  distortion 
of  our  Lord's  characteristics  or  meaning.  It  correctly 
understands,  but  it  fatally  rejects.  His  claims;  and 
does  not  hesitate  to  take  the  further  step,  on  the 
ground  of  these,  of  branding  Him  as  a  blasphemer. 

We  may  turn  the  high  priest's  question  in  another 
direction  :  '  What  further  need  have  we  of  witnesses  ?' 
These  horror-stricken  judges,  rending  their  garments 
in  simulated  grief  and  zeal,  and  that  silent  Prisoner, 
knowing  that  His  life  was  the  forfeit  of  His  claims, 
yet  saying  no  word  of  softening  or  explanation  of 
them,  may  teach  us  much.  They  are  witnesses  to  some 
of  the  central  facts  of  the  revelation  of  God  in  Christ. 
Let  us  turn  to  these  for  a  few  moments. 

I.  First,  then,  they  witness  to  Christ's  claims. 

The  question  that  was  proposed  to  Jesus, '  Art  Thou 
the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God?'  was  suggested 
by  the  facts  of  His  ministry,  and  not  by  anything  that 
had  come  out  in  the  course  of  this  investigation.  It 
was  the  summing  up  of  the  impression  made  on  the 
ecclesiastical  authorities  of  Judaism  by  His  whole 
attitude  and  demeanour.  And  if  we  look  back  to  His 
life  we  shall  see  that  there  were  instances,  long  before 
this,  on  which,  on  the  same  ground,  the  same  charge 
was  jflung  at  Him.  For  example,  when  He  would  heal 
the  paralytic,  and,  before  He  dealt  with  bodily  disease, 
attended  to  spiritual  weakness,  and  said,  '  Thy  sins 
be  forgiven  thee,'  ere  He  said,  *  Take  up  thy  bed  and 


292     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxvi. 

walk,'  there  was  a  group  of  keen-eyed  hunters  after 
heresy  sitting  eagerly  on  the  watch,  who  snatched 
at  the  words  in  a  moment,  and  said,  '  Who  is  this  that 
f orgiveth  sins  ?  No  man  f orgiveth  sins,  but  God  only  ! 
This  man  speaketh  blasphemies ! '  And  they  were  right. 
He  did  claim  a  divine  prerogative;  and  either  the 
claim  must  be  admitted  or  the  charge  of  blasphemy 
urged. 

Again,  when  He  infringed  Rabbinical  Sabbath  law 
by  a  cure,  and  they  said,  'This  Man  has  broken  the 
Sabbath  day,'  His  vindication  was  worse  than  His 
offence,  for  He  answered,  '  My  Father  worketh  hitherto, 
and  I  work.'  And  then  they  sought  the  more  to  kill 
Him,  because  He  not  only  brake  the  Sabbath,  but  also 
called  God  His  own  Father,  making  Himself  equal  with 
God.'  And  again,  when  He  declared  that  the  safety  of 
His  sheep  in  His  hands  was  identical  with  their  safety 
in  His  Father's  hands,  and  vindicated  the  audacious 
parallelism  by  the  tremendous  assertion,  '  I  and  My 
Father  are  One,'  the  charge  of  blasphemy  rang  out ; 
and  was  inevitable,  unless  the  claim  was  true. 

These  outstanding  instances  are  but,  as  it  were, 
summits  that  rise  above  the  general  level.  But  the 
general  level  is  that  of  One  who  takes  an  altogether 
unique  position.  No  one  else,  professing  to  lead  men 
in  paths  of  righteousness,  has  so  constantly  put  the 
stress  of  His  teaching,  not  upon  morality,  nor  religion, 
nor  obedience  to  God,  but  upon  this,  '  Believe  in  Me ' ; 
or  ever  pushed  forward  His  own  personality  into  the 
foreground,  and  made  the  whole  nobleness  and  blessed- 
ness and  security  and  devoutness  of  a  life  to  hinge  upon 
that  one  thing,  its  personal  relation  to  Him. 

People  talk  about  the  sweet  and  gentle  wisdom  that 
flowed  from  Christ's  lips,  and  so  on ;  about  the  lofty 


V.  65]    CHARGED  WITH  BLASPHEMY     293 

morality,  about  the  beauty  of  pity  and  tenderness,  and 
all  the  other  commonplaces  so  familiar  to  us,  and  we 
gladly  admit  them  all.  But  I  venture  to  go  a  step 
further  than  all  these,  and  to  say  that  the  outstanding 
differentia,  the  characteristic  which  marks  off  Christ's 
teaching  as  something  new,  peculiar,  and  altogether 
per  se,  is  not  its  morality,  not  its  philanthropy, 
not  its  meek  wisdom,  not  its  sweet  reasonableness, 
but  its  tremendous  assertions  of  the  importance  of 
Himself. 

And  if  I  am  asked  to  state  the  ground  upon  which 
such  an  assertion  may  be  vindicated,  I  would  point  you 
to  such  facts  as  these,  that  this  Man  took  up  a  position 
of  equality  with,  and  of  superiority  to,  the  legislation 
which  He  and  the  people  to  whom  He  was  speaking 
regarded  as  being  divinely  sent,  and  said,  'Ye  have 
heard  that  it  hath  been  said  to  them  of  old  time '  so 
and  so ;  '  but  I  say  unto  you ' :  that  this  Man  declared 
that  to  build  upon  His  words  was  to  build  upon  a  rock ; 
that  this  Man  declared  that  He — He — was  the  legitimate 
object  of  absolute  trust,  of  utter  submission  and  obedi- 
ence ;  that  He  claimed  from  His  followers  affiance,  love, 
reverence  which  cannot  be  distinguished  from  worship, 
and  that  He  did  not  therein  conceive  that  He  was 
intercepting  anything  that  belonged  to  the  Father. 
This  Man  professed  to  be  able  to  satisfy  the  desires  of 
every  human  heart  when  He  said,  '  If  any  man  thirst 
let  him  come  to  Me  and  drink.'  This  Man  claimed  to 
be  able  to  breathe  the  sanctity  of  repose  in  the  blessed- 
ness of  obedience  over  all  the  weary  and  the  heavy 
laden  ;  and  assured  them  that  He  Himself,  through  all 
the  ages,  and  in  all  lands,  and  for  all  troubles,  would 
give  them  rest.  This  Man  declared  that  He  who  stood 
there,  in  the  quiet  homes  of  Galilee,  and  went  about  its 


294      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW   [ch.xxvi. 

acres  with  those  blessed  feet  for  our  advantage,  was  to 
be  Judge  of  the  whole  world.  This  Man  said  that  His 
name  was  '  Son  of  God ' ;  and  this  Man  declared,  '  He 
that  hath  seen  Me  hath  seen  the  Father.' 

And  then  people  say  to  us,  '  Oh !  your  Gospel  nar- 
ratives, even  if  they  be  the  work  of  men  in  good  faith, 
telling  what  they  suppose  He  said,  mistook  the  Teacher ; 
and  if  we  could  strip  away  the  accretion  of  mistaken 
reverence,  and  come  to  the  historical  person,  we  should 
find  no  claims  like  these.' 

Well,  this  is  not  the  time  to  enter  into  the  large 
questions  which  that  contention  involves,  but  I  point 
you  to  the  incident  which  makes  my  text,  and  I  say, 
'  What  need  we  any  further  witnesses  ? '  Nobody 
denies  that  Jesus  Christ  was  crucified  as  the  result 
of  a  combination  of  Sanhedrin  and  Pilate.  What  set 
the  Jewish  rulers  against  Him  with  such  virulent  and 
murderous  determination?  Is  there  anything  in  the 
life  of  Jesus  Christ,  if  it  is  watered  down  as  the  people, 
who  want  to  knock  out  all  the  supernatural,  desire  to 
water  it  down — is  there  anything  in  the  life  that  will 
account  for  the  inveterate  acrimony  and  hostility 
which  pursued  Him  to  the  death  ?  The  fact  remains 
that,  whether  or  not  Evangelists  and  Apostles  miscon- 
ceived His  teaching  when  they  gave  such  prominence 
to  His  personality  and  His  lofty  claims.  His  enemies 
were  under  the  same  delusion,  if  it  were  a  delusion; 
and  the  reason  why  the  whole  orthodox  religionism  of 
Judaism  rejoiced  when  He  was  nailed  to  the  Cross 
was  summed  up  in  the  taunt  which  they  flung  at  Him 
as  He  hung  there,  '  If  He  be  the  Son  of  God,  let  Him 
come  down,  and  we  will  believe  Him.' 

So,  brethren,  I  put  into  the  witness-box  Annas  and 
Caiaphas  and  all  their  satellites,  and  I  say,  *  What  need 


V.  66]    CHARGED  WITH  BLASPHEMY     295 

we  any  further  witnesses?'  He  died  because  He 
declared  that  He  was  the  Son  of  God. 

And  I  beseech  you  ask  yourselves  whether  we  are 
not  being  put  off  with  a  maimed  version  of  His  teach- 
ing, if  there  is  struck  out  of  it  this  its  central  charac- 
teristic, that  He,  *  the  sage  and  humble,'  declared  that 
He  was  '  likewise  One  with  the  Creator.' 

II.  Secondly,  note  how  we  have  here  the  witness 
that  Jesus  Christ  assented  always  to  the  loftiest  mean- 
ing  that  men  attached  to  His  claims. 

I  have  already  pointed  out  the  remarkable  difference 
between  the  explanations  which  He  condescended  to 
give  to  the  Roman  governor  as  to  the  perfectly  in- 
nocent meaning  of  His  claim  to  be  the  King  of  Israel, 
and  His  silence  before  the  Sanhedrin.  That  silence  is 
only  explicable  because  they  rightly  understood  the 
meaning  of  the  claim  which  they  contemptuously  and 
perversely  rejected.  Jesus  Christ  knew  that  His  death 
was  the  forfeit,  as  I  have  said,  and  yet  He  locked  His 
lips  and  said  not  a  word. 

In  like  manner  when,  on  the  other  occasion  to  which 
I  have  already  referred,  the  Pharisees  stumbled  at  His 
claims  to  forgive  sins,  He  said  nothing  to  soften  down 
that  claim.  If  He  had  meant  then  only  what  some 
people  would  desire  to  make  Him  mean  when  He  said, 
•Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee' — viz.,  that  He  was  simply 
acting  as  a  minister  of  the  divine  forgiveness,  and  as- 
suring a  poor  sinner  that  God  had  pardoned  him — why 
in  common  honesty,  in  discharge  of  His  plain  obliga- 
tions of  a  teacher,  did  He  not  say  so — not  for  His 
own  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  preventing  such  a  tre- 
mendous misunderstanding  of  His  meaning  ?  But  He 
let  them  go  away  with  the  conviciion  that  He  in- 
tended to  claim  a  divine  prerogative,  and  vindicated  the 


296     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxvi. 

assertion  by  doing  what  only  a  divine  power  could  do : 
*  That  ye  may  know  that  the  Son  of  Man  hath  power 
enough  on  earth  to  forgive  sins,  He  saith  unto  the 
sick  of  the  palsy,  Take  up  thy  bed  and  walk.'  There 
was  no  need  for  Him  to  have  wrought  a  miracle  to 
establish  His  right  to  tell  a  poor  soul  that  God  forgave 
sin.  And  the  fact  that  the  miracle  was  supposed  to 
be  the  demonstration  and  the  vindication  of  His  right 
to  declare  forgiveness  shows  that  He  was  exercising 
that  prerogative  which  belongs,  as  they  rightly  said, 
to  God  only. 

And  in  precisely  the  same  manner,  the  commonest 
obligations  of  honesty,  the  plain  duty  of  a  misunder- 
stood Teacher,  to  say  nothing  of  the  duty  of  self- 
preservation,  ought  to  have  opened  His  lips  in  the 
presence  of  the  Jewish  authorities,  if  they  understood 
wrongly  and  set  too  high  their  estimate  of  the  meaning 
of  His  claims.  His  silence  establishes  the  fact  that 
they  understood  these  aright. 

And  so,  all  through  His  life,  we  note  this  peculiarity, 
that  He  never  puts  aside  as  too  lofty  for  truth  men's 
highest  interpretations  of  His  claims,  nor  as  too  lowly 
for  their  mutual  relation  the  lowest  reverence  which 
bowed  before  Him.  Peter,  in  the  house  of  Cornelius, 
said,  •  Stand  up !  for  I  myself  also  am  a  man.'  Paul 
and  Barnabas,  when  the  priests  brought  out  the  oxen 
and  garlands  to  the  gates  of  Lystra,  could  say,  '  We 
also  are  men  of  like  passions  with  yourselves.'  But 
this  meek  Jesus  lets  men  fall  at  His  feet ;  and  women 
wash  them  with  their  tears  and  wipe  them  with  the 
hairs  of  their  head;  and  souls  stretch  out  maimed 
hands  of  faith,  and  grasp  Him  as  their  only  hope. 
When  His  apostle  said,  '  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son 
of  the  living  God,'  His  answer  was,  '  Blessed  art  thou, 


V.  65]    CHARGED  WITH  BLASPHEMY     297 

,  ,  .  for  flesh  and  blood  hath  not  revealed  it  unto  thee,' 
and  when  another  exclaimed,  'My  Lord  and  my  God!' 
this  Pattern  of  all  meekness  accepted  and  endorsed 
the  title,  and  pronounced  a  benediction  on  all  who, 
not  having  seen  Him,  should  hereafter  attain  a  like 
faith. 

Now  I  want  to  know  whether  that  characteristic, 
which  runs  through  all  His  life,  and  is  inseparable 
from  it,  can  be  vindicated  on  any  ground  except  the 
ground  that  He  was  '  God  manifest  in  the  flesh.'  Either 
Jesus  Christ  had  a  greedy  appetite  for  excessive  adora- 
tion, was  a  victim  to  diseased  vanity  and  ever-present 
self-regard — the  most  damning  charge  that  you  can 
bring  against  a  religious  teacher — or  He  accepted  love 
and  reverence  and  trust,  because  the  love  and  the 
reverence  and  the  trust  knit  souls  to  the  Incarnate 
God  their  Saviour. 

III.  And  so,  lastly  we  have  here  witness  to  the  only 
alternative  to  the  acceptance  of  His  claims. 

He  hath  spoken  'blasphemy,'  not  because  He  had 
derogated  from  the  dignity  of  divinity,  but  because  He 
had  presumed  to  participate  in  it.  And  it  seems  to  me, 
with  all  deference,  that  this  rough  alternative  is  the 
only  legitimate  one.  If  Jesus  Christ  did  make  such 
claims,  and  His  relation  to  the  Jewish  hierarchy  and 
His  death  are,  as  I  have  shown  you,  apart  even  from 
the  testimony  of  the  Evangelists,  strong  confirmation 
of  the  fact  that  He  did — if  Jesus  Christ  did  make 
such  claims,  and  they  were  not  valid,  one  of  two  things 
follows.  Either  He  believed  them,  and  then,  what  about 
His  sanity?  or  He  did  not  believe  them,  and  then, 
what  about  His  honesty  ?  In  either  case,  what  about 
His  claims  to  be  a  Teacher  of  religion?  What  about 
His  claims  to  be  the  Pattern  of  humanity  ?    That  part 


298     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.  xxvi. 

of  His  teaching  and  character  is  either  the  manifesta- 
tion of  His  glory  or  it  is  like  one  of  those  fatal  black 
seams  that  run  through  and  penetrate  into  the  sub- 
stance of  a  fair  white  marble  statue,  marring  all  the 
rest  of  its  pale  and  celestial  beauty.  Brethren,  it  seems 
to  me  that,  when  all  is  said  and  done,  we  come  to  one 
of  three  things  about  Jesus  Christ.  Either  '  He  blas- 
phemeth '  if  He  said  these  things,  and  they  were  not 
true,  or  '  He  is  beside  Himself '  if  He  said  these  things 
and  believed  them,  or 

'  Thou  art  the  King  of  Glory,  O  Christ ; 
Thou  art  the  everlasting  Son  of  the  Father.' 

Now  I  know  that  there  are  many  men  who,  I  venture 
to  say,  are  far  better  than  their  creed,  and  who,  be- 
lieving it  impossible  to  accept,  in  their  plain  meaning, 
the  plain  claims  of  Jesus  Christ  to  divinity,  do  yet 
cleave  to  Him  with  a  love  and  a  reverence  and  an 
obedience  which  more  orthodox  men  might  well  copy. 
And  far  be  it  from  me  to  say  one  word  which  might 
seem  even  to  quench  the  faintest  beam  of  light  that, 
shining  from  His  perfect  character,  draws  any  heart, 
however  imperfectly,  to  Himself.  Only,  if  I  speak  to 
any  such  at  this  time,  I  beseech  them  to  follow  the 
light  which  draws  them,  and  to  see  whether  their 
reverence  for  that  fair  character  should  not  lead  them 
to  accept  implicitly  the  claims  that  came  from  His  own 
lips.  I  humbly  venture  to  say  that  if  we  know  any- 
thing at  all  about  Jesus  Christ,  we  know  that  He  lived 
declaring  Himself  to  be  the  Everlasting  Son  of  the 
Father,  and  that  He  died  because  He  did  so  declare 
Himself.  And  I  beseech  you  to  ponder  the  question 
whether  reverence  for  Him  and  admiration  of  His 
character  can  be  logically  and   reasonably  retained, 


V.65]  *  SEE  THOU  TO  THAT!'  299 

side  by  side  with  the  repudiation  of  that  which  is  the 
most  distinctive  part  of  His  message  to  men. 

Oh,  brethren,  if  it  is  true  that  God  has  come  in  the 
flesh,  and  that  that  sweet,  gracious,  infinitely  beautiful 
life  is  really  the  revelation  of  the  heart  of  God,  then 
what  a  beam  of  sunshine  falls  upon  all  the  darkness  of 
this  world !  Then  God  is  love ;  then  that  love  holds 
us  all ;  did  not  shrink  from  dying  for  us,  and  lives 
for  ever  to  bless  us.  If  these  claims  are  true,  what 
should  our  attitude  be  but  that  of  infinite  trust,  love, 
submission,  obedience,  and  the  shaping  of  our  lives 
after  the  pattern  of  His  life  ? 

These  rejectors,  when  they  said,  '  He  speaketh 
blasphemies,'  were  sealing  their  own  doom,  and  the 
ruined  Temple  and  nineteen  centuries  of  wandering 
misery  show  what  comes  to  men  who  hear  Christ 
declaring  that  He  is  the  Son  of  the  living  God  and 
the  Judge  of  the  world,  and  who  find  nothing  in  the 
words  but  blasphemy.  On  the  other  hand,  if  we  will 
answer  His  question,  '  Whom  say  ye  that  I  am  ? '  as 
the  apostle  answered  it,  we  shall,  like  the  apostle, 
receive  a  benediction  from  His  lips,  and  be  set  on 
that  faith  as  on  a  rock  against  which  the  'gates  of 
hell '  shall  not  prevail. 


•SEE  THOU  TO  THAT!' 

'  I  have  sinned  in  that  I  have  betrayed  the  innocent  blood.  And  they  said.  What 
is  that  to  us?  See  thou  to  that.  24. 1  am  innocent  of  the  blood  of  this  just  Person : 
see  ye  to  it.'— Matt,  xxvii.  4,  24. 

So,  what  the  priests  said  to  Judas,  Pilate  said  to  the 
priests.  They  contemptuously  bade  their  wretched 
instrument  bear  the  burden  of  his  own  treachery. 
They  had  condescended  to  use  his  services,  but  he  pre- 


300    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW   [ch.  xxvii. 

sumed  too  far  if  he  thought  that  that  gave  him  a  claim 
upon  their  sympathies.  The  tools  of  more  respectable 
and  bolder  sinners  are  flung  aside  as  soon  as  they  are 
done  with.  What  were  the  agonies  or  the  tears  of  a 
hundred  such  as  he  to  these  high-placed  and  heartless 
transgressors  ?  Priests  though  they  were,  and  there- 
fore bound  by  their  office  to  help  any  poor  creature 
that  was  struggling  with  a  wounded  conscience,  they 
had  nothing  better  to  say  to  him  than  this  scornful 
gibe,  '  What  is  that  to  us  ?    See  thou  to  that.' 

Pilate,  on  the  other  hand,  metes  to  them  the  measure 
which  they  had  meted  to  Judas.  With  curious  verbal 
correspondence,  he  repeats  the  very  words  of  Judas 
and  of  the  priests.  •  Innocent  blood,'  said  Judas.  '  I  am 
innocent  of  the  blood  of  this  just  Person,'  said  Pilate. 
'  See  thou  to  that,'  answered  they.  *  See  ye  to  it,'  says 
he.  He  tries  to  shove  off  his  responsibility  upon  them, 
and  they  are  quite  willing  to  take  it.  Their  consciences 
are  not  easily  touched.  Fanatical  hatred  which  thinks 
itself  influenced  by  religious  motives  is  the  blindest 
and  cruellest  of  all  passions,  knowing  no  compunc- 
tion, and  utterly  unperceptive  of  the  innocence  of  its 
victim. 

And  so  these  three,  Judas,  the  priests,  and  Pilate, 
suggest  to  us,  I  think,  a  threefold  way  in  which  con- 
science is  perverted.  Judas  represents  the  agony  of 
conscience,  Pilate  represents  the  shuffling  sophistica- 
tions of  a  half -awakened  conscience,  and  those  priests 
and  people  represent  the  torpor  of  an  altogether  mis- 
directed conscience. 

I.  Judas,  or  the  agony  of  conscience. 

'  I  have  sinned  in  that  I  have  betrayed  the  innocent 
blood.'  We  do  not  need  to  enter  at  any  length  upon 
the  difficult  question  as  to  what  were  the  motives  of 


vs.  4, 24]        *  SEE  THOU  TO  THAT ! '  301 

Judas  in  his  treachery.  For  my  part  I  do  not  see 
that  there  is  anything  in.  the  Scripture  narrative, 
simply  interpreted,  to  bear  out  the  hypothesis  that  his 
motives  were  mistaken  zeal  and  affection  for  Christ ; 
and  a  desire  to  force  Him  to  the  avowal  of  His  Messiah- 
ship.  One  can  scarcely  suppose  zeal  so  strangely  per- 
verted as  to  begin  by  betrayal,  and  if  the  object  was 
to  make  our  Lord  speak  out  His  claims,  the  means 
adopted  were  singularly  ill-chosen.  The  story,  as 
it  stands,  naturally  suggests  a  much  less  far-fetched 
explanation. 

Judas  was  simply  a  man  of  a  low  earthly  nature,  who 
became  a  follower  of  Christ,  thinking  that  He  was  to 
prove  a  Messiah  of  the  vulgar  type,  or  another  Judas 
Maccabseus.  He  was  not  attracted  by  Christ's  char- 
acter and  teaching.  As  the  true  nature  of  Christ's 
work  and  kingdom  became  more  obvious,  he  became 
more  weary  of  Him  and  it.  The  closest  proximity  to 
Jesus  Christ  made  eleven  enthusiastic  disciples,  but  it 
made  one  traitor.  No  man  could  live  near  Him  for 
three  years  without  coming  to  hate  Him  if  he  did  not 
love  Him.  Then,  as  ever.  He  was  set  for  the  fall  and 
for  the  rise  of  many.  He  was  the  '  savour  of  life  unto 
life,  or  of  death  unto  death.' 

But  be  this  as  it  may,  we  have  here  to  do  with  the 
sudden  revulsion  of  feeling  which  followed  upon  the 
accomplished  act.  This  burst  of  confession  does  not 
sound  like  the  words  of  a  man  who  had  been  actuated 
by  motives  of  mistaken  affection.  He  knows  himself 
a  traitor,  and  that  fair,  perfect  character  rises  before 
him  in  its  purity,  as  he  had  never  seen  it  before — to 
rebuke  and  confound  him. 

So  this  exclamation  of  his  puts  into  a  vivid  shape, 
which  may  help  it  to  stick  in  our  memories  and  hearts, 


302    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW   [ch.xxvii. 

this  thought — what  an  awful  difference  there  is  in  the 
look  of  a  sin  before  we  do  it  and  afterwards  !  Before 
we  do  it  the  thing  to  be  gained  seems  so  attractive, 
and  the  transgression  that  gains  it  seems  so  compara- 
tively insignificant.  Yes  !  and  when  we  have  done  it 
the  two  change  places ;  the  thing  that  we  win  by  it 
seems  so  contemptible — thirty  pieces  of  silver !  pitch 
them  over  the  Temple  enclosure  and  get  rid  of  them ! 
— and  the  thing  that  we  did  to  win  them  dilates  into 
such  awful  magnitude ! 

For  instance,  suppose  we  do  anything  that  we  know 
to  be  wrong,  being  tempted  to  it  by  a  momentary 
indulgence  of  some  mere  animal  impulse.  By  the  very 
nature  of  the  case,  that  dies  in  its  satisfaction  and  the 
desire  dies  along  with  it.  I  We  do  not  wish  the  prize 
any  more  when  once  we  have  got  it.  It  lasts  but  a 
moment  and  is  past.  Then  we  are  left  alone  with  the 
thought  of  the  sin  that  we  have  done.  When  we  get 
the  prize  of  our  wrong-doing,  we  find  out  that  it  is  not 
as  all-satisfying  as  we  expected  it  would  be.  Most  of 
our  earthly  aims  are  like  that.  The  chase  is  a  great 
deal  more  than  the  hare.  Or,  as  George  Herbert  has 
it,  '  Nothing  between  two  dishes — a  splendid  service  of 
silver  plate,  and  when  you  take  the  cover  off  there  is 
no  food  to  eat — such  are  the  pleasures  here.' 

Universally,  this  is  true,  that  sooner  or  later,  when 
the  delirium  of  passion  and  the  rush  of  temptation  are 
over  and  we  wake  to  consciousness,  we  find  that  we 
are  none  the  richer  for  the  thing  gained,  and  oh !  so 
infinitely  the  poorer  for  the  means  by  which  we  gained 
it.  It  is  that  old  story  of  the  Veiled  Prophet  that 
wooed  and  won  the  hearts  of  foolish  maidens,  and, 
when  he  had  them  in  his  power  in  the  inner  chamber, 
removed  the  silver  veil  which  they  had  thought  hid 


vs.  4,  24]       *  SEE  THOU  TO  THAT ! '  303 

dazzling  glory  and  showed  hideous  features  that  struck 
despair  into  their  hearts.  Every  man's  sin  does  that 
for  him.  And  to  you  I  come  now  with  this  message  : 
every  wrong  thing  that  you  do,  great  or  small,  will  be 
like  some  of  those  hollow  images  of  the  gods  that  one 
hears  of  in  barbarian  temples — looked  at  in  front,  fair, 
but  when  you  get  behind  them  you  find  a  hollow,  full 
of  dust  and  spiders'  webs  and  unclean  things.  Be  sure 
of  this,  every  sin  is  a  blunder. 

That  is  the  first  lesson  that  lies  in  these  words  of  this 
wretched  traitor  ;  but  again,  here  is  an  awful  picture 
for  us  of  the  hell  upon  earth,  of  a  conscience  which  has 
no  hope  of  pardon.  I  do  not  suppose  that  Judas  was 
lost,  if  he  were  lost,  because  he  betrayed  Jesus  Christ, 
but  because,  having  betrayed  Jesus  Christ,  he  never 
asked  to  be  forgiven.  And  I  suppose  that  the  difference 
between  the  traitor  who  betrayed  Him  and  the  other 
traitor  who  denied  Him,  was  this,  that  the  one,  when 
*  he  went  out  and  wept  bitterly,'  had  the  thought  of  a 
loving  Master  with  him,  and  the  other,  when  '  he  went 
out  and  hanged  himself,'  had  the  thought  of  nothing 
but  that  foul  deed  glaring  before  him.  I  pray  you  to 
learn  this  lesson — you  cannot  think  too  much,  too 
blackly,  of  your  own  sins,  but  you  may  think  too 
exclusively  of  them,  and  if  you  do  they  will  drive  you 
to  madness  of  despair. 

My  dear  friend,  there  is  no  penitence  or  remorse 
which  is  deep  enough  for  the  smallest  transgression; 
but  there  is  no  transgression  which  is  so  great  but  that 
forgiveness  for  it  may  come.  And  we  may  have  it  for 
the  asking,  if  we  will  go  to  that  dear  Christ  that  died 
for  us.  The  consciousness  of  sinfulness  is  a  wholesome 
consciousness.  I  would  that  every  man  and  woman 
listening  to  me  now  had  it  deep  in  their  consciences, 


304    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW   [ch.  xxvii. 

and  then  I  would  that  it  might  lead  us  all  to  that  one 
Lord  in  whom  there  is  forgiveness  and  peace.  Be  sure 
of  this,  that  if  Judas  Iscariot,  when  his  '  soul  flared 
forth  in  the  dark,'  died  without  hope  and  without 
pardon,  it  was  not  because  his  crime  was  too  great  for 
forgiveness,  but  because  the  forgiveness  had  never 
been  asked.  There  is  no  unpardonable  sin  except  that 
of  refusing  the  pardon  that  avails  for  all  sin. 

II.  So  much,  then,  for  this  first  picture  and  the 
lessons  that  come  out  of  it.  In  the  next  place  we  take 
Pilate,  as  the  representative  of  what  I  have  ventured 
to  call  the  shufflings  of  a  half-awakened  conscience. 

'  I  am  innocent  of  the  blood  of  this  just  Person,'  says 
he  :  •  see  ye  to  it.'  He  is  very  willing  to  shuffle  off  his 
responsibility  upon  priests  and  people,  and  they,  for 
their  part,  are  quite  as  willing  to  accept  it ;  but  the 
responsibility  can  neither  be  shuffled  off  by  him  nor 
accepted  by  them.  His  motive  in  surrendering  Jesus 
to  them  was  probably  nothing  more  than  the  low  and 
cowardly  wish  to  humour  his  turbulent  subjects,  and 
so  to  secure  an  easy  tenure  of  office.  For  such  an  end 
what  did  one  poor  man's  life  matter  ?  He  had  a  great 
contempt  for  the  accusers,  which  he  is  scarcely  at  the 
pains  to  conceal.  It  breaks  out  in  half -veiled  sarcasms, 
by  which  he  cynically  indemnifies  himself  for  his 
ignoble  yielding  to  the  constraint  which  they  put  upon 
him.  He  knows  perfectly  well  that  the  Roman  power 
has  nothing  to  fear  from  this  King,  whose  kingdom 
rested  on  His  witness  to  the  Truth.  He  knows  perfectly 
well  that  unavowed  motives  of  personal  enmity  lie  at 
the  bottom  of  the  whole  business.  In  the  words  of  our 
text  he  acquits  Christ,  and  thereby  condemns  himself. 
If  Pilate  knew  that  Jesus  was  innocent,  he  knew  that 
he,  as  governor,  was  guilty  of  prostituting  Roman 


vs.  4,  24]       *  SEE  THOU  TO  THAT  ! '  305 

justice,  which  was  Rome's  best  gift  to  her  subject 
nations,  and  of  giving  up  an  innocent  man  to  death, 
in  order  to  save  himself  trouble  and  to  conciliate  a 
howling  mob.  No  washing  of  his  hands  will  cleanse 
them.  •  All  the  perfumes  of  Arabia  will  not  sweeten ' 
that  hand.  But  his  words  let  us  see  how  a  man 
may  sophisticate  his  conscience  and  quibble  about 
his  guilt. 

Here,  then,  we  get  once  more  a  vivid  picture  that 
may  remind  us  of  what,  alas !  we  all  know  in  our  own 
experience,  how  a  man's  conscience  may  be  clear- 
sighted enough  to  discern,  and  vocal  enough  to  declare, 
that  a  certain  thing  is  wrong,  but  not  strong  enough 
to  restrain  from  doing  it.  Conscience  has  a  voice  and 
an  eye ;  alas  !  it  has  no  hands.  It  shares  the  weakness 
of  all  law,  it  cannot  get  itself  executed.  Men  will  get 
over  a  fence,  although  the  board  that  says,  '  Trespas- 
sers will  be  prosecuted '  is  staring  them  in  the  face  in 
capital  letters  at  the  very  place  where  they  leap  it. 
Your  conscience  is  a  king  without  an  army,  a  judge 
without  officers.  'If  it  had  authority,  as  it  has  the 
power,  it  would  govern  the  world,'  but  as  things  are, 
it  is  reduced  to  issuing  vain  edicts  and  to  saying,  '  Thou 
shalt  not,'  and  if  you  turn  round  and  say,  '  I  will, 
though,'  then  conscience  has  no  more  that  it  can  do. 

And  then  here,  too,  is  an  illustration  of  one  of  the 
commonest  of  the  ways  by  which  we  try  to  slip  our 
necks  out  of  the  collar,  and  to  get  rid  of  the  responsi- 
bilities that  really  belong  to  us.  '  See  ye  to  it '  does  not 
avail  to  put  Pilate's  crime  on  the  priests'  shoulders. 
Men  take  part  in  evil,  and  each  thinks  himself  inno- 
cent, because  he  has  companions.  Half-a-dozen  men 
carry  a  burden  together ;  none  of  them  fancies  that  he 
is  carrying  it.  It  is  like  the  case  of  turning  out  a 
VOL.  III.  u 


306    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.xxvii. 

platoon  of  soldiers  to  shoot  a  mutineer — nobody  knows 
whose  bullet  killed  him,  and  nobody  feels  himself 
guilty ;  but  there  the  man  lies  dead,  and  it  was  some- 
body that  did  it.  So  corporations,  churches,  societies, 
and  nations  do  things  that  individuals  would  not  do, 
and  each  man  of  them  wipes  his  mouth  and  says,  '  I 
have  done  no  harm.'  And  even  when  we  sin  alone  we 
are  clever  at  finding  scapegoats.  '  The  woman  tempted 
me,  and  I  did  eat,'  is  the  formula  universally  used 
yet.  The  schoolboy's  excuse,  'Please,  sir,  it  was  not 
me,  it  was  the  other  boy,'  is  what  we  are  all  ready 
to  say. 

Now  I  pray  you,  brethren,  to  remember  that,  whether 
our  consciences  try  to  shuffle  off  responsibility  for 
united  action  upon  the  other  members  of  the  firm,  or 
whether  we  try  to  excuse  our  individual  actions  by 
laying  blame  on  our  tempers,  or  whether  we  adopt 
the  modern  slang,  and  talk  about  circumstances  and 
heredity  and  the  like,  as  being  reasons  for  the 
diminution  or  the  extinction  of  the  notion  of  guilt, 
it  is  sophistical  trifling ;  and  down  at  the  bottom 
most  of  us  know  that  we  alone  are  responsible  for 
the  volition  which  leads  to  our  act.  We  could  have 
helped  it  if  we  had  liked.  Nobody  compelled  us 
to  keep  in  the  partnership  of  evil,  or  to  yield  to  the 
tempter.  Pilate  was  not  forced  by  his  subjects  to 
give  the  commandment  that  'it  should  be  as  they 
required.'  They  had  their  own  burden  to  carry. 
Each  man  has  to  bear  the  consequences  of  his  actions. 
There  are  many  '  burdens '  which  we  can  '  bear  for 
one  another,  and  so  fulfil  the  law  of  Christ';  but 
every  man  has  to  bear  as  his  own  the  burden  of 
the  fruits  of  his  deeds.  In  that  harvest,  he  that 
soweth    and    he  that   reapeth   are   one,    and  each  of 


vs.  4,  24]        «  SEE  THOU  TO  THAT  I '  307 

us  has  to  drink  as  we  ourselves  have  brewed.  You 
have  to  pay  for  your  share,  however  many  companions 
you  may  have  had  in  the  act. 

So  do  not  you  sophisticate  your  consciences  with  the 
delusion  that  your  responsibility  may  be  shifted  to  any 
other  person  or  thing.  These  may  diminish,  or  may 
modify  your  responsibility,  and  God  takes  all  these 
into  account.  But  after  all  these  have  been  taken  into 
account  there  is  this  left — that  you  yourselves  have 
done  the  act,  which  you  need  not  have  done  unless  you 
had  so  willed,  and  that  having  done  it,  you  have  to 
carry  it  on  your  back  for  evermore.  '  See  thou  to  that,' 
was  a  heartless  word,  but  it  was  a  true  one.  '  Every 
one  of  us  shall  give  an  account  of  himself  to  God,'  d,nd 
as  the  old  Book  of  Proverbs  has  it,  '  If  thou  be  wise, 
thou  shalt  be  wise  for  thyself :  and  if  thou  scornest, 
thou  alone  shalt  bear  it.' 

III.  And  so,  lastly,  we  have  here  another  group  still 
— the  priests  and  people.  They  represent  for  us  the 
torpor  and  misdirection  of  conscience. 

'  Then  answered  all  the  people  and  said.  His  blood  be 
on  us  and  on  our  children.'  They  were  perfectly  ready 
to  take  the  burden  upon  themselves.  They  thought 
that  they  were  '  doing  God  service '  when  they  slew 
God's  Messenger.  They  had  no  perception  of  the 
beauty  and  gentleness  of  Christ's  character.  They  be- 
lieved Him  to  be  a  blasphemer,  and  they  believed  it  to 
be  a  solemn  religious  duty  to  slay  Him  then  and  there. 
Were  they  to  blame  because  they  slew  a  blasphemer  ? 
According  to  Jewish  law — no.  They  were  to  blame 
because  they  had  brought  themselves  into  such  a 
moral  condition  that  that  was  all  which  they  thought 
of  and  saw  in  Jesus  Christ.  "With  their  awful  words 
they  stand  before  us,  as  perhaps  the  crowning  instances 


308    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW   [ch.xxvii. 

in  Scripture  history  of  the  possible  torpor  which  may 
paralyse  consciences. 

I  need  not  dwell,  I  suppose,  even  for  a  moment,  upon 
the  thought  of  how  the  highest  and  noblest  sentiments 
may  be  perverted  into  becoming  the  allies  of  the  lowest 
crime.  '  O  Liberty  !  what  crimes  have  been  done  in  thy 
name ! '  you  remember  one  of  the  victims  of  the  guil- 
lotine said,  as  her  last  words.  'O  Religion  !  what  crimes 
have  been  done  in  thy  name  ! '  is  one  of  the  lessons  to 
be  gathered  from  Calvary. 

But,  passing  that,  to  come  to  the  thing  that  is  of 
more  consequence  to  each  of  us,  let  us  take  this  thought, 
dear  brethren,  as  to  the  awful  possibility  of  a  conscience 
going  fast  asleep  in  the  midst  of  the  wildest  storm  of 
passion,  like  that  unfaithful  prophet  Jonah,  down  in 
the  hold  of  the  heathen  ship.  You  can  lull  your  con- 
sciences into  dead  slumber.  You  can  stifle  them  so 
that  they  shall  not  speak  a  word  against  the  worst  of 
your  sins.  You  can  do  so  by  simply  neglecting  them, 
by  habitually  refusing  to  listen  to  them.  If  you  keep 
picking  all  the  leaves  and  buds  off  the  tree  before  they 
open,  it  will  stop  flowering.  You  can  do  it  by  gather- 
ing round  yourself  always,  and  only,  evil  associations 
and  evil  deeds.  The  habit  of  sinning  will  lull  a  con- 
science faster  than  almost  anything  else.  We  do  not 
know  how  hot  a  room  is,  or  how  much  the  air  is  ex- 
hausted, when  we  have  been  sitting  in  it  for  an  hour 
and  a  half.  But  if  we  came  into  it  from  outside  we 
should  feel  the  difference.  Styrian  peasants  thrive 
and  fatten  upon  arsenic,  and  men  may  flourish  upon 
all  iniquity  and  evil,  and  conscience  will  say  never  a 
word.  Take  care  of  that  delicate  balance  within  you; 
and  see  that  you  do  not  tamper  with  it  nor  twist  it. 

Conscience  may  be  misguided  as  well  as  lulled.     It 


vs.  4,  24]        *  SEE  THOU  TO  THAT  I '  309 

may  call  evil  good,  and  good  evil ;  it  may  take  honey 
for  gall,  and  gall  for  honey.  And  so  we  need  some- 
thing outside  of  ourselves  to  be  our  guide,  our  standard. 
We  are  not  to  be  contented  that  our  consciences  acquit 
us.  'I  know  nothing  against  myself,  yet  I  am  not 
hereby  justified,'  says  the  apostle  ; '  he  that  judgeth  me 
is  the  Lord.'  And  it  is  quite  possible  that  a  man  may 
have  no  prick  of  conscience  and  yet  have  done  a  very 
wrong  thing.  So  we  want,  as  it  seems  to  me,  some- 
thing outside  of  ourselves  that  shall  not  be  affected  by 
our  variations.  Conscience  is  like  the  light  on  the 
binnacle  of  a  ship.  It  tosses  up  and  down  along  with 
the  vessel.  We  want  a  steady  light  yonder  on  that 
headland,  on  the  fixed  solid  earth,  which  shall  not 
heave  with  the  heaving  wave,  nor  vary  at  all.  Con- 
science speaks  lowest  when  it  ought  to  speak  loudest. 
The  worst  man  is  least  troubled  by  his  conscience.  It 
is  like  a  lamp  that  goes  out  in  the  thickest  darkness. 
Therefore  we  need,  as  I  believe,  a  revelation  of  truth 
and  goodness  and  beauty  outside  of  ourselves  to  which 
we  may  bring  our  consciences  that  they  may  be  en- 
lightened and  set  right.  We  want  a  standard  like  the 
authorised  weights  and  measures  that  are  kept  in  the 
Tower  of  London,  to  which  all  the  people  in  the  little 
country  villages  may  send  up  their  yard  measures  and 
their  pound  weights,  and  find  out  if  they  are  just  and 
true.  We  want  a  Bible,  and  we  want  a  Christ  to  tell 
us  what  is  duty,  as  well  as  to  make  it  possible  for  us 
to  do  it. 

These  groups  which  we  have  been  looking  at  now, 
show  us  how  very  little  help  and  sympathy  a  wounded 
conscience  can  get  from  its  fellows.  The  conspirators 
turn  upon  each  other  as  soon  as  the  detectives  are 
amongst  them,  and  there  is  always  one  of  them  ready 


310    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW   [ch.xxvii. 

to  go  into  the  witness-box  and  swear  away  the  lives 
of  the  others  to  save  his  own  neck.  Wolves  tear  sick 
wolves  to  pieces. 

Round  us  there  stand  Society,  pitiless  and  stern, 
and  Nature,  rigid  and  implacable  ;  not  to  be  besought, 
not  to  be  turned.  And  when  I,  in  the  midst  of  this 
universe  of  fixed  law  and  cause  and  consequence,  wail 
out,  '  I  have  sinned,'  a  thousand  voices  say  to  me,  'What 
is  that  to  us  ?  See  thou  to  that.'  And  so  I  am  left 
with  my  guilt — it  and  I  together.  There  comes  One 
with  outstretched,  wounded  hands,  and  says,  *  Cast  all 
thy  burden  upon  Me,  and  I  will  free  thee  from  it  all.' 
'  Surely  He  hath  borne  our  griefs  and  carried  our 
sorrows  ! '  Trust  in  Him,  in  His  great  sacrifice,  and 
you  will  find  that  His  '  innocent  blood '  has  a  power 
that  will  liberate  your  conscience  from  its  torpor,  its 
vain  excuses,  its  agony  and  despair. 


THE  SENTENCE  WHICH  CONDEMNED 
THE  JUDGES 

And  Jesus  stood  before  the  governor :  and  the  governor  asked  Him,  saying. 
Art  Thou  the  King  of  the  Jews  ?  And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Thou  sayest.  12.  And 
■when  He  was  accused  of  the  chief  priests  and  elders,  He  answered  nothing.  13. 
Then  sa^  Pilate  unto  Him,  Hearest  Thou  not  how  many  things  they  witness 
against^Jhee  ?  14.  And  He  answered  him  to  never  a  word ;  insomuch  that  the 
governor  marvelled  greatly.  15.  Now  at  that  feast  the  governor  was  wonfc 
to  release  unto  the  people  a  prisoner,  whom  they  would.  16.  And  they  had  then  a 
notable  prisoner,  called  Barabbas.  17.  Therefore  when  they  were  gathered 
together,  Pilate  said  unto  them.  Whom  will  ye  that  I  release  unto  you  ?  Barabbas, 
or  Jesus  which  is  called  Christ  ?  18.  For  he  knew  that  for  envy  they  had  delivered 
Him.  19.  When  he  was  set  down  on  the  judgment  seat,  his  wife  sent  unto  him, 
saying,  Have  thou  nothing  to  do  with  that  just  man  :  for  I  have  suflFered  many 
things  this  day  in  a  dream  because  of  Him.  20.  But  the  chief  priests  and  elders 
persuaded  the  multitude  that  they  should  ask  Barabbas,  and  destroy  Jesus.  21. 
The  governor  answered  and  said  unto  them,  Whether  of  the  twain  will  ye  thati 
release  unto  you  ?  They  said,  Barabbas.  22.  Pilate  saith  unto  them.  What  shall  1 
do  then  with  Jesus  which  is  called  Christ?  They  all  say  unto  him.  Let  Him  be 
crucified.  23.  And  the  governor  said,  Why,  what  evil  hath  He  done?  But  they 
cried  out  the  more,  saying,  Let  him  be  crucified.  24.  When  Pilate  saw  that  he 
could  prevail  nothing,  but  that  rather  a  tumult  was  made,  he  took  water,  and 


vs.  11-26]    THE  JUDGES  CONDEMNED      311 

washed  his  hands  before  the  multitude,  saying,  I  am  innocent  of  the  blood  of  thia 
just  Person  :  see  ye  to  it.  25.  Then  answered  all  the  people,  and  said,  His  blood  be 
on  us,  and  on  our  children.  26.  Then  released  he  Barabbas  unto  them  :  and  when 
he  had  scourged  Jesus,  he  delivered  Him  to  be  crucified.'— St.  Matt,  xxvii.  11-26. 

The  principal  figures  in  this  passage  are  Pilate  and 
the  Jewish  rulers  and  people.  Jesus  is  all  but 
passive.  They  are  busy  in  condemning  Him,  and  little 
know  that  they  are  condemning  themselves.  They 
are  unconsciously  exemplifying  the  tragic  truth  of 
Christ's  saying,  'Whosoever  shall  fall  on  this  stone 
shall  be  broken.'  They  do  not  dislodge  it,  but  their 
attempt  to  dislodge  it  wounds  them. 

I.  Matthew  gives  a  very  summary  account  of  our 
Lord's  appearing  before  Pilate,  but,  brief  as  it  is,  and 
much  as  it  omits,  it  throws  up  into  strong  light  the 
two  essential  points, — Christ's  declaration  that  He  was 
the  King  of  the  Jews,  and  His  silence  while  a  storm 
of  accusations  raged  around  Him.  As  to  the  former,  it 
was  the  only  charge  with  which  Pilate  was  properly 
concerned.  He  had  a  right  to  know  whether  this 
strange  criminal  was  dangerous  to  Rome,  because  He 
claimed  kingship,  and,  if  he  were  satisfied  that  He  was 
not,  his  bounden  duty  was  to  liberate  Him.  One  can 
understand  the  scornful  emphasis  which  Pilate  laid  on 
'Thou'  as  he  looked  on  his  Prisoner,  who  certainly 
would  not  seem  to  his  practical  eyes  a  very  formidable 
leader  of  revolt.  There  is  a  world  of  contempt,  amused 
rather  than  alarmed,  in  the  question,  and  behind  it  lies 
the  consciousness  of  commanding  legions  enough  to 
crush  any  rising  headed  by  such  a  person.  John's 
account  shows  the  pains  which  Jesus  took  to  make 
sure  of  the  sense  in  which  the  question  was  asked 
before  He  answered  it,  and  then  to  make  clear  that 
His  kingship  bore  no  menace  to  Rome.  That  being 
made  plain,  He  answered  with  an  affirmative.    Just  as 


312    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW   [ch.xxvii. 

He  had  in  unmistakable  language  claimed  before  the 
Sanhedrin  to  be  the  Messiah,  the  Son  of  God,  so  He 
claimed  before  Pilate  to  be  the  King  of  Israel,  answer- 
ing each  tribunal  as  to  what  each  had  the  right  to 
inquire  into,  and  thus  'before  Pontius  Pilate  witness- 
ing the  good  confession,'  and  leaving  both  tribunals 
without  excuse.  Jesus  died  because  He  would  not  bate 
His  claims  to  Messianic  dignity.  Did  He  fling  away 
His  life  for  a  false  conception  of  Himself?  He  was 
either  a  dreamer  intoxicated  with  an  illusion,  and  His 
death  was  suicide,  or  He  was — what  ? 

The  one  avowal  was  all  that  Pilate  was  entitled  to. 
For  the  rest  Jesus  locked  His  lips,  and  He  whose  very 
name  was  The  Word  was  silent.  What  was  the  mean- 
ing of  that  silence  ?  It  was  not  disdain,  nor  unwilling- 
ness to  make  Himself  known  ;  but  it  was  partly  merciful 
— inasmuch  as  He  knew  that  all  speech  would  have 
been  futile,  and  would  but  have  added  to  the  con- 
demnation of  such  hearers  as  Caiaphas,  Herod,  and 
Pilate — and  partly  judicial.  Still  more  was  it  the 
silence  of  perfect,  unresisting  submission, — '  as  a  sheep 
before  her  shearers  is  dumb,  so  He  openeth  not  His 
mouth.'  And  it  is  a  pattern  for  us,  as  Peter  tells  us  in 
his  Epistle ;  for  it  is  with  regard  to  this  very  matter  of 
taking  unjust  suffering  patiently  and  without  resist- 
ance that  the  apostle  says  that  Jesus  has  'left  us  an 
example.'  There  are  limits  to  such  silent  endurance  of 
wrong,  for  Paul  defended  himself  tooth  and  nail  before 
priests  and  kings ;  but  Christ's  followers  are  strongest 
by  meek  patience,  and  descend  when  they  take  a  leaf 
out  of  their  enemies'  book. 

II.  The  next  point  is  Pilate's  weak  attempt  to  save 
Jesus.  Christ's  silence  had  impressed  Pilate,  and,  if  he 
had  been  a  true  man,  he  would  not  have  stopped  at 


vs.  11-26]    THE  JUDGES  CONDEMNED      313 

'marvelling  greatly.'  He  was  clearly  convinced  of 
Christ's  innocence  of  any  crime  that  threatened 
Roman  supremacy,  and  therefore  was  hound  to  have 
given  effect  to  his  convictions,  and  let  Jesus  go.  He 
had  read  the  motives  of  the  priests,  which  were  too 
plain  for  a  shrewd  man  of  the  world  to  be  blind 
to  them.  That  Jews  should  be  taken  with  such  a 
sudden  fit  of  loyalty  as  to  yell  for  the  death  of  a 
fellow-countryman  because  he  was  a  rebel  against 
Caesar  was  too  absurd  to  swallow,  and  Pilate  was  not 
taken  in.  He  knew  that  something  else  was  working 
below  ground,  and  hit  on  '  envy '  as  the  solution.  He 
was  not  far  wrong ;  for  the  zeal  which  to  the  priests 
themselves  seemed  to  be  excited  by  devout  regard  for 
God's  honour  was  really  kindled  by  determination  to 
keep  their  own  prerogatives,  and  keen  insight  into 
the  curtailment  of  these  which  would  follow  if  this 
Jesus  were  recognised  as  Messiah.  Pilate's  diagnosis 
coincided  with  Christ's  in  the  parable :  '  This  is  the 
Heir ;  come,  let  us  kill  Him,  and  the  inheritance  shall 
be  ours.' 

So,  willing  to  deliver  Jesus,  and  yet  afraid  to  cross 
the  wishes  of  his  ticklish  subjects,  Pilate,  like  other 
weak  men,  tries  a  trick  by  which  he  may  get  his  way 
and  seem  to  give  them  theirs.  He  hoped  that  they 
would  choose  Jesus  rather  than  Barabbas  as  the  object 
of  the  customary  release.  It  was  ingenious  of  him  to 
narrow  the  choice  to  one  or  other  of  the  two,  ignoring 
all  other  prisoners  who  might  have  had  the  benefit  of 
the  custom.  But  there  is  also,  perhaps,  a  dash  of 
sarcasm,  and  a  hint  of  his  having  penetrated  the 
priests'  motives,  in  his  confining  their  choice  to  Jesus 
or  Barabbas  ;  for  Barabbas  was  what  they  had  charged 
Jesus   with  being,— a  rebel;   and,  if   they  preferred 


314     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.xxvii. 

him  to  Jesus,  the  hypocrisy  of  their  suspicious  loyalty 
would  be  patent.  The  same  sub-acid  tone  is  obvious  in 
Pilate's  twice  designating  our  Lord  as  '  Jesus  which  is 
called  Christ.'  He  delights  to  mortify  them  by  pushing 
the  title  into  their  faces,  as  it  were.  He  dare  not  be 
just,  and  he  relieves  and  revenges  himself  by  being 
cynical  and  mocking. 

III.  Having  referred  the  choice  to  the  •  multitude/ 
Pilate  takes  his  place  on  his  official  seat  to  wait  for, 
and  then  to  ratify,  their  vote.  In  that  pause,  he 
perhaps  felt  some  compunction  at  paltering  with 
justice,  which  it  was  Rome's  one  virtue  to  administer. 
How  his  wife's  message  would  increase  his  doubt! 
Was  her  dream  a  divine  warning,  or  a  mere  reflection 
in  sleep  of  waking  thoughts?  It  is  noticeable  that 
Matthew  records  several  dreams  which  conveyed  God's 
will, — for  example,  to  Joseph  and  to  the  Magi,  and  here 
may  be  another  instance ;  or  some  tidings  as  to  Jesus 
may  have  reached  the  lady,  though  not  her  husband, 
and  her  womanly  sense  of  right  may  have  shaped  the 
dream,  and  given  her  vivid  impressions  of  the  danger 
of  abetting  a  judicial  murder.  But  Matthew  seems 
to  tell  of  her  intervention  mainly  in  order  to  preserve 
her  testimony  to  Jesus'  innocence,  and  to  point  out  one 
more  of  the  fences  which  Pilate  trampled  down  in  his 
dread  of  offending  the  rulers.  A  wife's  message,  con- 
veying what  both  he  and  she  probably  regarded  as  a 
supernatural  warning,  was  powerless  to  keep  him  back 
from  his  disgraceful  failure  of  duty. 

IV.  While  he  was  fighting  against  the  impression  of 
that  message,  the  rulers  were  busy  in  the  crowd,  sug- 
gesting the  choice  of  Barabbas.  It  was  perhaps  his  wife's 
words  that  stung  him  to  act  at  once,  and  have  done 
with  his  inner  conflict.    So  he  calls  for  the  decision  of 


vs.  11-26]     THE  JUDGES  CONDEMNED     315 

the  alternative  vs^hich  he  had  already  submitted.  His 
dignity  would  suffer,  if  he  had  to  wait  longer  for  an 
answer.  He  got  it  at  once,  and  the  unanimous  vote 
was  for  Barabbas.  Probably  the  rulers  had  skilfully 
manipulated  the  people.  The  multitude  is  easily  led  by 
demagogues,  but,  left  to  itself,  its  instincts  are  usually 
right,  though  its  perception  of  character  is  often 
mistaken.  Why  was  Barabbas  preferred?  Probably 
just  because  he  had  been  cast  into  prison  for  sedition, 
and  so  was  thought  to  be  a  good  patriot.  Popular  heroes 
often  win  their  reputation  by  very  questionable  acts, 
and  Barabbas  was  forgiven  his  being  a  murderer  for 
the  sake  of  his  being  a  rebel.  But  it  was  not  so  much 
that  Barabbas  was  loved  as  that  Jesus  was  hated,  and 
it  was  not  the  multitude  so  much  as  the  rulers  that 
hated  him.  Many  of  those  now  shrieking  '  Crucify 
Him  ! '  had  shouted  •  Hosanna  ! '  a  day  or  two  before  till 
they  were  hoarse.  The  populace  was  guilty  of  fickle- 
ness, blindness,  rashness,  too  easy  credence  of  the 
crafty  calumnies  of  the  rulers.  But  a  far  deeper  stain 
rests  on  these  rulers  who  had  resisted  the  light,  and 
were  now  animated  by  the  basest  self-interest  in  the 
garb  of  keen  regard  for  the  honour  of  God.  There 
were  very  different  degrees  of  guilt  in  the  many  voices 
that  roared  '  Barabbas  ! ' 

Pilate  made  one  more  feeble  attempt  to  save  Jesus 
by  asking  what  was  to  be  done  with  Him.  The 
question  was  an  ignoble  abdication  of  his  judicial 
office,  and  perhaps  was  meant  as  a  salve  for  his  own 
conscience,  and  an  excuse  to  his  wife,  enabling  him  to 
say,  'I  did  not  crucify  Him;  they  did,' — a  miserable 
pretext,  the  last  resort  of  a  weak  man,  who  knew  that 
he  was  doing  a  wrong  and  cowardly  thing. 

V.  The  same    nervous    fear    and  vain    attempt    to 


316     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxvii. 

shuffle  responsibility  off  himself  give  tragic  interest 
to  his  theatrical  washing  of  his  hands.  The  one  thing 
that  he  feared  was  a  riot,  which  would  be  like  a  spark 
in  a  barrel  of  gunpowder,  if  it  broke  out  at  the  Pass- 
over, when  Jerusalem  swarmed  with  excited  crowds. 
To  avoid  that,  the  sacrifice  of  one  Jew's  life  was  a 
small  matter,  even  though  he  was  an  interesting  and 
remarkable  person,  and  Pilate  knew  Him  to  be  per- 
fectly harmless. 

But  no  washing  of  hands  could  shift  the  guilt  from 
Pilate. 

'  Will  all  great  Neptune's  ocean  wash  this  blood 
Clean  from  my  hand?    No.' 

His  vain  declaration  of  innocence  is  an  acknowledg- 
ment of  guilt,  for  he  is  forced  by  conscience  to  declare 
that  Jesus  is  a  '  righteous  Man,'  and,  as  such,  He  should 
have  been  under  the  broad  shield  of  Roman  justice. 
We  too  often  deceive  ourselves  by  throwing  the  blame 
of  our  sins  on  companions  or  circumstances,  and  try  to 
cheat  our  consciences  into  silence.  But  our  guilt  is  ours, 
however  many  allies  we  have  had,  and  however  strong 
have  been  our  temptations;  and  though  we  may  say, 
'  I  am  innocent,'  God  will  sooner  or  later  say  to  each  of 
us, '  Thou  art  the  man ! ' 

The  wild  cry  of  passion  with  which  the  multitude 
accepted  the  responsibility  has  been  only  too  com- 
pletely fulfilled  in  the  millennium-long  Iliad  of  woes 
which  has  attended  the  Jews.  Surely,  the  existence, 
in  such  circumstances,  for  all  these  centuries,  of  that 
strange,  weird,  fated  race,  is  a  standing  miracle,  and 
the  most  conspicuous  proof  that '  verily,  there  is  a  God 
that  judgeth  in  the  earth.'  But  it  is  also  a  prophecy 
that  Israel  shall  *  turn  to  the  Lord,'  and  that  the  blood 


vs.  11-26]  THE  CRUCIFIXION  317 

which  has  so  long  been  on  them  as  a  crime,  carrying 
its  own  punishment,  will  at  last  be  sprinkled  on  their 
hearts,  and  take  away  their  sin. 


THE  CRUCIFIXION 

'And  when  they  were  come  unto  a  place  called  Golgotha,  that  is  to  say,  a  place 
of  a  skull,  34.  They  gave  Him  vinegar  to  drink  mingled  with  gall :  and  when  He 
had  tasted  thereof,  He  would  not  drink.  35.  And  they  crucified  Him,  and  parted 
His  garments,  casting  lots:  that  it  might  he  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  by  the 
prophet,  They  parted  My  garments  among  them,  and  upon  My  vesture  did  they 
cast  lots.  36.  And  sitting  down  they  watched  Him  there ;  37.  And  set  up  over  His 
head  His  accusation  written,  This  is  Jesus  the  King  of  the  Jews.  38.  Then  were 
there  two  thieves  crucified  with  Him,  one  on  the  right  hand,  and  another  on  the 
left.  39.  And  they  that  passed  by  reviled  Him,  wagging  their  heads,  40.  And 
Baying, 'Thou  that  destroyest  the  temple,  and  buildest  it  in  three  days,  save  Thy- 
self. If  Thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  come  down  from  the  cross.  41.  Likewise  also 
the  chief  priests  mocking  Him,  with  the  scribes  and  elders,  said,  42.  He  saved 
Others ;  Himself  He  cannot  save.  If  He  be  the  King  of  Israel,  let  Him  now  come 
down  from  the  cross,  and  we  will  believe  Him.  43.  He  trusted  in  God  ;  let  Him 
deliver  Him  now,  if  He  will  have  Him  :  for  He  said,  I  am  the  Son  of  God.  44.  The 
thieves  also,  which  were  crucified  with  Him,  cast  the  same  in  His  teeth.  45.  Now 
from  the  sixth  hour  there  was  darkness  over  all  the  land  unto  the  ninth  hour. 
46.  And  about  the  ninth  hour  Jesus  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  saying,  Eli,  Eli,  lama 
sabachthani  ?  that  is  to  say.  My  God,  My  God,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  Me  ?  47.  Some 
of  them  that  stood  there,  when  they  heard  that,  said,  This  Man  calleth  for  Elias. 
48.  And  straightway  one  of  them  ran,  and  took  a  spunge,  and  filled  it  with  vinegar, 
and  put  it  on  a  reed,  and  gave  Him  to  drink.  49.  The  rest  said,  Let  be,  let  us  see 
whether  Elias  will  come  to  save  Him.  50.  Jesus,  when  He  had  cried  again  with  a 
loud  voice,  yielded  up  the  ghost.'— Matt,  xxvii.  33-50. 

The  characteristic  of  Matthew's  account  of  the  cruci- 
fixion is  its  representation  of  Jesus  as  perfectly  passive 
and  silent.  His  refusal  of  the  drugged  wine,  His  cry  of 
desolation,  and  His  other  cry  at  death,  are  all  His 
recorded  acts.  The  impression  of  the  whole  is  'as  a 
sheep  before  his  shearers  is  dumb,  so  He  openeth  not 
His  mouth.'  We  are  bid  to  look  on  the  grim  details  of 
the  infliction  of  the  terrible  death,  and  to  listen  to  the 
mockeries  of  people  and  priests  ;  but  reverent  awe  for- 
bids description  of  Him  who  hung  there  in  His  long, 
silent  agony.    Would  that  like  reticence  had  checked 


318     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.xxvii. 

the  ill-timed  eloquence  of  preachers  and  teachers  of 
later  days ! 

I.  We  have  the  ghastly  details  of  the  crucifixion. — 
Conder's  suggestion  of  the  site  of  Calvary  as  a  little 
knoll  outside  the  city,  seems  possible.  It  is  now  a  low, 
bare  hillock,  with  a  scanty  skin  of  vegetation  over 
the  rock,  and  in  its  rounded  shape  and  bony  rocki- 
ness  explains  why  it  was  called  '  skull.'  It  stands  close 
sj  to  the  main  Damascus  road,  so  that  there  would  be 
many  *  passers  by '  on  that  feast  day.  Its  top  commands 
a  view  over  the  walls  into  the  temple  enclosure,  where, 
at  the  very  hour  of  the  death  of  Jesus,  the  Passover 
lamb  was  perhaps  being  slain.  Arrived  at  the  place, 
the  executioners  go  about  their  task  with  stolid  pre- 
cision. What  was  the  crucifying  of  another  Jew  or 
two  to  them?  Before  they  lift  the  cross  or  fasten 
their  prisoner  to  it,  a  little  touch  of  pity,  or  perhaps 
only  the  observance  of  the  usual  custom,  leads  them  to 
offer  a  draught  of  wine,  in  which  some  anodyne  had 
been  mixed,  to  deaden  agony.  But  the  cup  which 
He  had  to  drink  needed  that  He  should  be  in  full 
possession  of  all  His  sensibilities  to  pain,  and  of  all  His 
unclouded  firmness  of  resolve ;  and  so  His  patient  lips 
closed  against  the  offered  mercy.  He  would  not  drink 
because  He  would  suffer,  and  He  would  suffer  because 
He  would  redeem.  His  last  act  before  He  was  nailed 
to  the  cross  was  an  act  of  voluntary  refusal  of  an 
opened  door  of  escape  from  some  portion  of  His  pains. 

What  a  gap  there  is  between  verses  34  and  35 !  The 
unconcerned  soldiers  went  on  to  the  next  step  in  their 
ordinary  routine  on  such  an  occasion, — the  fixing  of 
the  cross  and  fastening  of  the  victim  to  it.  To  them  it 
was  only  what  they  had  often  done  before  ;  to  Matthew, 
it  was  too  sacred  to  be  narrated,  He  cannot  bring  his 


vs.  33-50]  THE  CRUCIFIXION  319 

pen  to  write  it.  As  it  were,  he  bids  us  turn  away  our 
eyes  for  a  moment ;  and  when  next  we  look,  the  deed 
is  done,  and  there  stands  the  cross,  and  the  Lord  hang- 
ing, dumb  and  unresisting,  on  it.  We  see  not  Him,  but 
the  soldiers,  busy  at  their  next  task.  So  little  were 
they  touched  by  compassion  or  awe,  that  they  paid  no 
heed  to  Him,  and  suspended  their  work  to  make  sure  of 
their  perquisites, — the  poor  robes  which  they  stripped 
from  His  body.  Thus  gently  Matthew  hints  at  the 
ignominy  of  exposure  attendant  on  crucifixion,  and 
gives  the  measure  of  the  hard  stolidity  of  the  guards. 
Gain  had  been  their  first  thought,  comfort  was  their 
second.  They  were  a  little  tired  with  their  march  and 
their  work,  and  they  had  to  stop  there  on  guard  for 
an  indefinite  time,  with  nothing  to  do  but  two  more 
prisoners  to  crucify :  so  they  take  a  rest,  and  idly  keep 
watch  over  Him  till  He  shall  die.  How  possible  it  is  to 
look  at  Christ's  sufferings  and  see  nothing !  These 
rude  legionaries  gazed  for  hours  on  what  has  touched 
the  world  ever  since,  and  what  angels  desired  to  look 
into,  and  saw  nothing  but  a  dying  Jew.  They  thought 
about  the  worth  of  the  clothes,  or  about  how  long  they 
would  have  to  stay  there,  and  in  the  presence  of  the 
most  stupendous  fact  in  the  world's  history  were  all 
unmoved.  We  too  may  gaze  on  the  cross  and  see 
nothing.  We  too  may  look  at  it  without  emotion, 
because  without  faith,  or  any  consciousness  of  what  it 
may  mean  for  us.  Only  they  who  see  there  the  sacrifice 
for  their  sins  and  the  world's,  see  what  is  there.  Others 
are  as  blind  as,  and  less  excusable  than,  these  soldiers 
who  watched  all  day  by  the  Cross,  seeing  nothing,  and 
tramped  back  at  night  to  their  barrack  utterly  ignorant 
of  what  they  had  been  doing.  But  their  work  was  not 
quite  done.    There  was  still  a  piece  of  grim  mockery  to 


320     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.xxvii. 

be  performed,  which  they  would  much  enjoy.  The 
'  cause,'  as  Matthew  calls  it,  had  to  be  nailed  to  the 
upper  part  of  the  cross.  It  was  tri-lingual,  as  John 
tells  us, — in  Hebrew,  the  language  of  revelation ;  in 
Greek,  the  tongue  of  philosophy  and  art ;  in  Latin,  the 
speech  of  law  and  power.  The  three  chief  forces  of  the 
human  spirit  gave  unconscious  witness  to  the  King; 
the  three  chief  languages  of  the  western  world  pro- 
claimed His  universal  monarchy,  even  while  they 
seemed  to  limit  it  to  one  nation.  It  was  meant  as  a 
gibe  at  Him  and  at  the  nation,  and  as  Pilate's  state- 
ment of  the  reason  for  his  sentence  ;  but  it  meant  more 
than  Pilate  meant  by  it,  and  it  was  fitting  that  His 
royal  title  should  hang  above  His  head ;  for  the  cross  is 
His  throne,  and  He  is  the  King  of  men  because  He  has 
died  for  them  all.  One  more  piece  of  work  the  soldiers 
had  still  to  do.  The  crucifixion  of  the  two  robbers 
(perhaps  of  Barabbas'  gang,  though  less  fortunate  than 
he)  by  Christ's  side  was  intended  to  associate  Him 
in  the  public  mind  with  them  and  their  crimes,  and 
was  the  last  stroke  of  malice,  as  if  saying,  '  Here  is 
your  King,  and  here  are  two  of  His  subjects  and  mini- 
sters.' Matthew  says  nothing  of  the  triumph  of  Christ's 
love,  which  won  the  poor  robber  for  a  disciple  even  at 
that  hour  of  ignominy.  His  one  purpose  seems  to  be 
to  accumulate  the  tokens  of  suffering  and  shame,  and 
so  to  emphasise  the  silent  endurance  of  the  meek  Lamb 
of  God.  Therefore,  without  a  word  about  any  of  our 
Lord's  acts  or  utterances,  he  passes  on  to  the  next 
group  of  incidents. 

II.  The  mockeries  of  people  and  priests.  There 
would  be  many  coming  and  going  on  the  adjoining 
road,  most  of  them  too  busy  about  their  own  affairs  to 
delay  long;  for  crucifixion  was  a  slow  process,  and, 


vs.  33-50]  THE  CRUCIFIXION  321 

when  once  the  cross  has  been  lifted,  there  would  be  little 
to  see.  But  they  were  not  too  busy  to  spit  venom  at 
Him  as  they  passed.  How  many  of  these  scoffers,  to 
whom  death  cast  no  shield  round  the  object  of  their 
poor  taunts,  had  shouted  themselves  hoarse  on  the 
Monday,  and  waved  palm  branches  that  were  not 
withered  yet!  What  had  made  the  change  ?  There  was 
no  change.  They  were  running  with  the  stream  in  both 
their  hosannas  and  their  jeers,  and  the  one  were  worth 
as  much  as  the  other.  They  had  been  tutored  to  cry, 
*  Blessed  is  He  that  cometh ! '  and  now  they  were  tutored 
to  repeat  what  had  been  said  at  the  trial  about  destroy- 
ing the  temple.  The  worshippers  of  success  are  true 
to  themselves  when  they  mock  at  failure.  They  who 
shout  round  Jesus,  when  other  people  are  doing  it,  are 
only  consistent  when  they  join  in  the  roar  of  execra- 
tion. Let  us  take  care  that  our  worship  of  Him  is 
rooted  in  our  own  personal  experience,  and  independent 
of  what  rulers  or  influential  minds  may  say  of  Him. 

A  common  passion  levels  all  distinctions  of  culture 
and  rank.  The  reverend  dignitaries  echoed  the  fero- 
cious ridicule  of  the  mob,  whom  they  despised  so  much. 
The  poorest  criminal  would  have  been  left  to  die  in 
peace;  but  brutal  laughter  surged  round  the  silent 
sufferer,  and  showers  of  barbed  sarcasms  were  flung  at 
Him.  The  throwers  fancied  them  exquisite  jests,  and 
demonstrations  of  the  absurdity  of  Christ's  claims ;  but 
they  were  really  witnesses  to  His  claims,  and  explana- 
tions of  His  sufferings.  Look  at  them  in  turn,  with 
this  thought  in  our  minds.  '  He  saved  others ;  Himself 
He  cannot  save,'  was  launched  as  a  sarcasm  which  con- 
futed His  alleged  miracles  by  His  present  helplessness. 
How  much  it  admits,  even  while  it  denies !  Then,  He 
did  work  miracles ;  and  they  were  all  for  others,  never 

VOL.  III.  X 


322     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.xxvii. 

for  His  own  ends ;  and  they  were  all  for  saving,  never 
for  destroying.  Then,  too,  by  this  very  taunt  His  claim 
to  be  the  '  Saviour '  is  presupposed.  And  so, '  Physician, 
heal  Thyself,'  seemed  to  them  an  unanswerable  missile 
to  fling.  If  they  had  only  known  what  made  the  '  can- 
not,' and  seen  that  it  was  a  'will  not,'  they  would  have 
stood  full  in  front  of  the  great  miracle  of  love  which 
was  before  them  unsuspected,  and  would  have  learned 
that  the  not  saving  Himself,  which  they  thought  blew 

>/  to  atoms  His  pretensions  to  save  others,  was  really  the 
condition  of  His  saving  a  world.  If  He  is  to  save 
others  He  cannot  save  Himself.  That  is  the  law  for 
all  mutual  help.  The  lamp  burns  out  in  giving  light, 
but  the  necessity  for  the  death  of  Him  who  is  the  life  of 
the  world  is  founded  on  a  deeper  '  must.'    His  only  way 

V  of  delivering  us  from  the  burden  of  sin  is  His  taking 
it  on  Himself.  He  has  to  '  bear  our  griefs  and  carry 
our  sorrows,'  if  He  is  to  bear  away  the  sin  of  the  world. 
But  the  '  cannot '  derives  all  its  power  from  His  own 
loving  will.  The  rulers'  taunt  was  a  venomous  lie,  as 
they  meant  it.  If  for  '  cannot '  we  read  *  will  not,'  it  is 
the  central  truth  of  the  Gospel. 

Nor  did  they  succeed  better  with  their  second  gibe, 
which  made  mirth  of  such  a  throne,  and  promised 
allegiance  if  He  would  come  down.  O  blind  leaders  of 
the  blind !  That  death  which  seemed  to  them  to  shatter 
His  royalty  really  established  it.  His  Cross  is  His 
throne  of  saving  power,  by  which  He  sways  hearts  and 
wills,  and  because  of  it  He  receives  from  the  Father 
universal  dominion,  and  every  knee  shall  bow  to  Him. 
It  is  just  because  He  did  not  come  down  from  it  that 
we  believe  on  Him.  On  His  head  are  many  crowns ; 
but,  however  many  they  be,  they  all  grow  out  of  the 
crown  of  thorns.    The  true  kingship  is  absolute  com- 


vs.  33-50]  THE  CRUCIFIXION  323 

mand  over  willingly  submitted  spirits ;  and  it  is  His 
death  vs^hich  bows  us  before  Him  in  raptures  of  glad 
love  which  counts  submission,  liberty,  and  sacrifice 
blessed.  He  has  the  right  to  command  because  He 
has  given  Himself  for  us,  and  His  death  wakes  all- 
surrendering  and  all-expecting  faith. 

Nor  was  the  third  taunt  more  fortunate.  These  very 
religious  men  had  read  their  Bibles  so  badly  that  they 
might  never  have  heard  of  Job,  nor  of  the  latter  half 
of  Isaiah.  They  had  been  poring  over  the  letter  all 
their  lives,  and  had  never  seen,  with  their  microscopes, 
the  great  figure  of  the  Innocent  Sufferer,  so  plain  there. 
So  they  thought  that  the  Cross  demonstrated  the 
hollowness  of  Jesus'  trust  in  God,  and  the  rejection 
of  Him  by  God.  Surely  religious  teachers  should  have 
been  slow  to  scoff  at  religious  trust,  and  surely  they 
might  have  known  that  failure  and  disaster  even  to 
death  were  no  signs  of  God's  displeasure.  But,  in  one 
aspect,  they  were  right.  It  is  a  mystery  that  such  a 
life  should  end  thus ;  and  the  mystery  is  none  the  less 
because  many  another  less  holy  life  has  also  ended  in 
suffering.  But  the  mystery  is  solved  when  we  know 
that  God  did  not  deliver  Him,  just  because  He  *  would 
have  Him,'  and  that  the  Father's  delight  in  the  Son 
reached  its  very  highest  point  when  He  became  obedient 
until  death,  and  offered  Himself  '  a  sacrifice  acceptable, 
well  pleasing  unto  God.' 

III.  We  pass  on  to  the  darkness,  desolation,  and 
death.  Matthew  represents  these  three  long  hours 
from  noon  till  what  answers  to  our  3  P.M.  as  passed  in 
utter  silence  by  Christ.  What  went  on  beneath  that 
dread  veil,  we  are  not  meant  to  know.  Nor  do  we  need 
to  ask  its  physical  cause  or  extent.  It  wrapped  the 
agony  from  cruel  eyes  ;  it  symbolised  the  blackness  of 


324     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.xxvii. 

desolation  in  His  spirit,  and  by  it  God  draped  the 
heavens  in  mourning  for  man's  sin.  What  were  the 
onlookers  doing  then  ?  Did  they  cease  their  mocking, 
and  feel  some  touch  of  awe  creeping  over  them  ? 

'  His  brow  was  chill  with  dying, 
And  His  soul  was  faint  with  loss.' 

The  cry  that  broke  the  awful  silence,  and  came  out  of 
the  darkness,  was  more  awful  still.  The  fewer  our 
words  the  better ;  only  we  may  mark  how,  even  in  His 
agony,  Jesus  has  recourse  to  prophetic  words,  and 
finds  in  a  lesser  sufferer's  cry  voice  for  His  desolation. 
Further,  we  may  reverently  note  the  marvellous  blend- 
ing of  trust  and  sense  of  desertion.  He  feels  that  God 
has  left  Him,  and  yet  he  holds  on  to  God.  His  faith,  as 
a  man,  reached  its  climax  in  that  supreme  hour  when, 
loaded  with  the  mysterious  burden  of  God's  abandon- 
ment. He  yet  cried  in  His  agony,  '  My  God ! '  and  that 
with  reduplicated  appeal.  Separation  from  God  is  the 
true  death,  the  '  wages  of  sin ' ;  and  in  that  dread  hour 
He  bore  in  His  own  consciousness  the  uttermost  of  its 
penalty.  The  physical  fact  of  Christ's  death,  if  it  could 
have  taken  place  without  this  desolation  from  the  con- 
sciousness of  separation  from  God,  would  not  have 
been  the  bearing  of  all  the  consequences  of  man's  sins. 
The  two  must  never  be  parted  in  our  grateful  contem- 
plations ;  and,  while  we  reverently  abjure  the  attempt 
to  pierce  into  that  which  God  hid  from  us  by  the  dark- 
ness, we  must  reverently  ponder  what  Christ  revealed 
to  us  by  the  cry  that  cleft  it,  witnessing  that  He  then 
was  indeed  bearing  the  whole  weight  of  a  world's  sin. 
By  the  side  of  such  thoughts,  and  in  the  presence  of 
such  sorrow,  the  clumsy  jest  of  the  bystanders,  which 
caught  at  the  half -heard  words,  and  pretended  to  think 


vs.  33-50]     THE  BLIND  WATCHERS  825 

that  Jesus  was  a  crazy  fanatic  calling  for  Elijah  with 
his  fiery  chariot  to  come  and  rescue  Him,  may  well  be 
passed  by.  One  little  touch  of  sympathy  moistened  His 
dying  lips,  not  without  opposition  from  the  heartless 
crew  who  wanted  to  have  their  jest  out.  Then  came 
the  end.  The  loud  cry  of  the  dying  Christ  is  worthy  of 
record ;  for  crucifixion  ordinarily  killed  by  exhaustion, 
and  this  cry  was  evidence  of  abundant  remaining 
vitality.  In  accordance  therewith,  the  fact  of  death  is 
expressed  by  a  phrase,  which,  though  used  for  ordinary 
deaths,  does  yet  naturally  express  the  voluntariness 
of  Christ.  *  He  sent  away  His  spirit,'  as  if  He  had  bid 
it  depart,  and  it  obeyed.  Whether  the  expression  may 
be  fairly  pressed  so  far  or  no,  the  fact  is  the  same,  that 
Jesus  died,  not  because  He  was  crucified,  but  because 
He  chose.  He  was  the  Lord  and  Master  of  Death  ;  and 
when  He  bid  His  armour-bearer  strike,  the  slave  struck, 
and  the  King  died,  not  like  Saul  on  the  field  of  his 
defeat,  but  a  victor  in  and  by  and  over  death. 


THE  BLIND  WATCHERS  AT  THE  CROSS 

'  And  sitting  down  they  watched  Him  there.'— Matt,  xxvii.  36. 

Our  thoughts  are,  rightly,  so  absorbed  by  the  central 
Figure  in  this  great  chapter  that  we  pass  by  almost 
unnoticed  the  groups  round  the  cross.  And  yet  there 
are  large  lessons  to  be  learned  from  each  of  them. 
These  rude  soldiers,  four  in  number,  as  we  infer  from 
John's  Gospel,  had  no  doubt  joined  with  their  comrades 
in  the  coarse  mockery  which  preceded  the  sad  proces- 
sion to  Calvary ;  and  then  they  had  to  do  the  rough 
work  of  the  executioners,  fastening  the  sufferers  to  the 
rude  wooden  crosses,  lifting  these,  with  their  burden, 


326     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [cH.xxvn. 

fixing  them  into  the  ground,  then  parting  the  raiment. 
And  when  all  that  is  done  they  sit  stolidly  down  to 
take  their  ease  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  idly  to 
wait,  with  eyes  that  look  and  see  nothing,  until  the 
sufferers  die.  A  strange  picture ;  and  a  strange  thing 
to  think  of,  how  they  were  so  close  to  the  great  event 
in  the  world's  history,  and  had  to  stare  at  it  for  three 
or  four  hours,  and  never  saw  anything  ! 

The  lessons  that  the  incident  teaches  us  may  be  very 
simply  gathered  together. 

I.  First  we  infer  from  this  the  old  truth  of  how 
ignorant  men  are  of  the  real  meaning  and  outcome  of 
what  they  do. 

These  four  Roman  soldiers  were  foreigners;  I  sup- 
pose that  they  could  not  speak  a  word  to  a  man  in  that 
crowd.  They  had  no  means  of  communication  with 
them.  They  had  had  plenty  of  practice  in  crucifying 
Jews.  It  was  part  of  their  ordinary  work  in  these 
troublesome  times,  and  this  was  just  one  more.  Think 
of  what  a  corporal's  guard  of  rough  English  soldiers, 
out  in  Northern  India,  would  think  if  they  were  bidden 
to  hang  a  native  who  was  charged  with  rebellion 
against  the  British  Government.  So  much,  and  not 
one  whit  more,  did  these  men  know  of  what  they  were 
doing;  and  they  went  back  to  their  barracks,  stolid 
and  unconcerned,  and  utterly  ignorant  of  what  they 
had  been  about. 

But  in  part  it  is  so  with  us  all,  though  in  less  extreme 
fashion.  None  of  us  know  the  real  meaning,  and  none 
of  us  know  the  possible  issues  and  outcome  of  a  great 
deal  of  our  lives.  We  are  like  people  sowing  seed  in 
the  dark ;  it  is  put  into  our  hands  and  we  sow.  We  do 
the  deed ;  this  end  of  it  is  in  our  power,  but  where  it 
runs  out  to,  and  what  will  come  of  it,  lie  far  beyond 


V.  36]  THE  BLIND  WATCHERS  327 

our  ken.  We  are  compassed  about,  wherever  we  go, 
by  this  atmosphere  of  mystery,  and  enclosed  within  a 
great  ring  of  blackness. 

And  so  the  simple  lesson  to  be  drawn  from  that  clear 
fact,  about  all  our  conduct,  is  this — let  results  alone. 
Never  mind  about  what  you  cannot  get  hold  of ;  you 
cannot  see  to  the  other  end,  and  you  have  nothing  to  do 
with  it.  You  can  see  this  end ;  make  that  right.  Be 
sure  that  the  motive  is  right,  and  then  into  whatever 
unlooked-for  consequences  your  act  may  run  out  at  the 
further  end,  you  will  be  right.  Never  mind  what  kind 
of  harvest  is  coming  out  of  your  deeds,  you  cannot  fore- 
cast it.  '  Thou  soweth  not  that  body  that  shall  be,  but 
bare  grain. .  .  .  God  giveth  it  a  body  as  it  pleaseth  Him.' 
Let  alone  that  profitless  investigation,  the  attempt  to 
fashion  and  understand  either  the  significance  or  the 
issues  of  your  conduct,  and  stick  fast  by  this — look  after 
your  motive  for  doing  it,  and  your  temper  in  doing  it ; 
and  then  be  quite  sure,  '  Thou  shalt  find  it  after  many 
days,'  and  the  fruit  will  be  '  unto  praise  and  honour  and 
glory  at  the  appearing  of  Jesus  Christ.' 

II.  Take  another  very  simple  and  equally  plain  lesson 
from  this  incident,  viz.,  the  limitation  of  responsibility 
by  knowledge. 

These  men,  as  I  said,  were  ignorant  of  what  they 
were  doing,  and,  therefore,  they  were  guiltless.  Christ 
Himself  said  so  :  '  They  know  not  what  they  do.'  But 
it  is  marvellous  to  observe  that  whilst  the  people  who 
stood  round  the  cross,  and  were  associated  in  the  act 
that  led  Jesus  there,  had  all  degrees  of  responsibility, 
the  least  guilty  of  the  whole  were  the  men  who  did  the 
actual  work  of  nailing  Him  to  the  cross,  and  lifting  it 
with  Him  upon  it.  These  soldiers  were  not  half  as  much 
to  blame  as  were  many  of  the  men  that  stood  by ;  and 


328     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxvii. 

just  in  the  measure  in  which  the  knowledge  or  the  pos- 
sibility of  knowledge  increased,  just  in  that  measure 
did  the  responsibility  increase.  The  high  priest  was  a 
great  deal  more  to  blame  than  the  Roman  soldiers. 
The  rude  tool  that  nailed  Christ  to  the  cross,  the 
hammer  that  was  held  in  the  hand  of  the  legionary, 
was  almost  as  much  to  blame  as  the  hand  that  wielded 
it.  For  the  hand  that  wielded  it  had  very  little  more 
knowledge  than  it  had. 

In  so  far  as  it  was  possible  that  these  men  might 
have  known  something  of  what  they  were  doing,  in  so 
far  were  they  to  blame ;  but  remember  what  a  very, 
very  little  light  could  possibly  have  shone  upon  these 
souls.  If  there  is  no  light  there  cannot  be  any  shadow ; 
and  if  these  men  were,  as  certainly  they  were,  all  but 
absolutely  ignorant,  and  never  could  have  been  any- 
thing else,  of  what  they  were  doing,  then  they  were  all 
but  absolutely  guiltless.  And  so  you  come  to  this, 
which  is  only  a  paradox  to  superficial  thinkers,  that 
the  men  that  did  the  greatest  crime  in  the  whole  history 
of  the  world,  did  it  with  all  but  clean  hands ;  and  the 
people  that  were  to  be  condemned  were  those  who 
delivered  '  the  Just  One '  into  the  hands  of  more  lawless, 
and  therefore  less  responsible,  men. 

So  here  is  the  general  principle,  that  as  knowledge  and 
light  rise  and  fall,  so  responsibility  rises  and  falls  along 
with  them.  And  therefore  let  us  be  thankful  that 
we  have  not  to  judge  one  another,  but  that  we  have  all 
to  stand  before  that  merciful  and  loving  tribunal  of 
the  God  who  is  a  God  of  knowledge,  and  by  whom 
actions  are  iveighed,  as  the  Old  Book  has  Jit — not 
counted,  but  weighed.  And  let  us  be  thankful,  too> 
that  we  may  extend  our  charity  to  all  round  us,  and 
refrain  from  thinking  of   any  man    or  woman   that 


V.  36]         THE  BLIND  WATCHERS  829 

we  can  pronounce  upon  their  criminality,  because 
we  do  not  know  the  light  in  which  they  walk. 

III.  And  now  the  last  lesson,  and  the  one  that  I 
most  desire  to  lay  upon  your  hearts,  is  this,  how 
possible  it  is  to  look  at  Christ  on  the  cross,  and  see 
nothing. 

For  half  a  day  there  they  sat,  and  it  was  but  a  dying 
Jew  that  they  saw,  one  of  three.  A  touch  of  pity  came 
into  their  hearts  once  or  twice,  alternating  to  mockery, 
which  was  not  savage  because  it  was  simply  brutal; 
but  when  it  was  all  over,  and  they  had  pierced  His 
side,  and  gone  away  back  to  their  barracks,  they  had 
not  the  least  notion  that  they,  with  their  dim,  purblind 
eyes,  had  been  looking  at  the  most  stupendous  miracle 
in  the  whole  world's  history,  had  been  gazing  at  the 
thing  into  which  angels  desired  to  look ;  and  had  seen 
that  to  which  the  hearts  and  the  gratitude  of  uncon- 
verted millions  would  turn  for  all  eternity.  They  laid 
their  heads  down  on  their  pillows  that  night  and  did 
not  know  what  had  passed  before  their  eyes,  and 
they  shut  the  eyes  that  had  served  them  so  ill,  and 
went  to  sleep,  unconscious  that  they  had  seen  the 
pivot  on  which  the  whole  history  of  humanity  had 
turned;  and  been  the  unmoved  witnesses  of  'God mani- 
fest in  the  flesh,'  dying  on  the  cross  for  the  whole  world, 
and  for  them.  What  should  they  have  seen  if  they 
had  seen  the  reality?  They  should  have  seen  not  a 
dying  rebel  but  a  dying  Christ;  they  should  have 
looked  with  emotion,  they  should  have  looked  with 
faith,  they  should  have  looked  with  thankfulness. 

Any  one  who  looks  at  that  cross,  and  sees  nothing 
but  a  pure  and  perfect  man  dying  upon  it,  is  very 
nearly  as  blind  as  the  Roman  legionaries.  Any  one 
to  whom  it  is  only  an  example  of  perfect  innocence 


330    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxvii. 

and  patient  suffering  has  only  seen  an  inch  into  the 
Infinite ;  and  the  depths  of  it  are  as  much  concealed 
from  him  as  they  were  from  them.  Any  one  who 
looks  with  an  unmoved  heart,  without  one  thrill  of 
gratitude,  is  nearly  as  blind  as  the  rough  soldiers.  He 
that  looks  and  does  not  say — 

'  My  faith  would  lay  her  hand 
On  that  dear  head  of  Thine ; 
While  like  a  penitent  I  stand 
And  there  confess  my  sin,' 

has  not  learned  more  of  the  meaning  of  the  Cross  than 
they  did.  And  any  one  who  looks  to  it,  and  then 
turns  away  and  forgets,  or  who  looks  at  it  and  fails  to 
recognise  in  it  the  law  of  his  own  life  and  pattern  for 
his  own  conduct,  has  yet  to  see  more  deeply  into  it 
before  he  sees  even  such  portion  of  its  meaning  as 
here  we  can  apprehend. 

Oh !  dear  friends,  we  all  of  us,  as  the  apostle 
says  in  one  of  his  letters,  have  had  this  Christ  '  mani- 
festly set  forth  before  us  as  if  painted  upon  a  placard 
upon  a  wall '  (for  that  is  the  meaning  of  the  picturesque 
words  that  he  employs).  And  if  we  look  with  calm, 
unmoved  hearts ;  if  we  look  without  personal  appro- 
priation of  that  Cross  and  dying  love  to  ourselves, 
and  if  we  look  without  our  hearts  going  out  in  thank- 
fulness and  laying  themselves  at  His  feet  in  a  calm 
rapture  of  life-long  devotion,  then  we  need  not  wonder 
that  four  ignorant  heathen  men  sat  and  looked  at  Him 
for  four  long  hours  and  saw  nothing,  for  we  are  as 
blind  as  ever  they  were. 

You  say,  'We  see.'  Do  you  see?  Do  you  look? 
Does  the  look  touch  your  hearts  ?  H^ve  you  fathomed 
the  meaning  of  the  fact  ?     Is  it  to  you  the  sacrifice  of 


V.  36]         THE  BLIND  WATCHERS  331 

the  living  Christ  for  your  salvation  ?  Is  it  to  you  the 
death  on  which  all  your  hopes  rest  ?  You  say  that  you 
see.  Do  you  see  that  in  it?  Do  you  see  your  only 
ground  of  confidence  and  peace?  And  do  you  so  see 
that,  like  a  man  who  has  looked  at  the  sun  for  a  moment 
or  two,  when  you  turn  away  your  head  you  carry  the 
image  of  what  you  beheld  still  stamped  on  your  eye- 
ball, and  have  it  both  as  a  memory  and  a  present 
impression  ?  So  is  the  cross  photographed  on  your 
heart ;  and  is  it  true  about  us  that  every  day,  and  all 
days,  we  behold  our  Saviour,  and  beholding  Him  are 
being  changed  into  His  likeness  ?  Is  it  true  about  us 
that  we  thus  bear  about  with  us  in  the  body  '  the  dying 
of  the  Lord  Jesus '  ?  If  we  look  to  Him  with  faith  and 
love,  and  make  His  Cross  our  own,  and  keep  it  ever 
in  oui-  memory,  ever  before  us  as  an  inspiration  and 
a  hope  and  a  joy  and  a  pattern,  then  we  see.  If  not, 
•for  judgment  am  I  come  into  the  world,  that  they 
which  see  not  may  see,  and  that  they  which  see  might 
be  made  blind.'  For  what  men  are  so  blind  to  the 
infinite  pathos  and  tenderness,  power,  mystery,  and 
miracle  of  the  Cross,  as  the  men  and  women  who  all 
their  lives  long  have  heard  a  Gospel  which  has  been 
held  up  before  their  lack-lustre  eyes,  and  have  looked 
at  it  so  long  that  they  cannot  see  it  any  more? 

Let  us  pray  that  our  eyes  may  be  purged,  that  we 
may  see,  and  seeing  may  copy,  that  dying  love  of  the 
ever-loving  Lord. 


TAUNTS  TURNING  TO  TESTIMONIES 

• . . .  The  chief  priests  mocking  Him . . .  said,  42.  He  saved  others ;  Himself  Ho 
cannot  save.  If  He  be  the  King  of  Israel,  let  Him  now  come  down  from  the  cross, 
and  we  will  believe  Him.  43.  He  trusted  in  God ;  let  Him  deliver  Him  now,  if  He 
will  have  Him.'— Matt,  xxvii.  41-43. 

It  is  an  old  saying  that  the  corruption  of  the  best  is 
the  worst.  What  is  more  merciful  and  pitiful  than 
true  religion  ?  What  is  more  merciless  and  malicious 
than  hatred  which  calls  itself  'religious'?  These  priests, 
like  many  a  persecutor  for  religion  since,  came  to  feast 
their  eyes  on  the  long-drawn-out  agonies  of  their 
Victim,  and  their  rank  tongues  blossomed  into  foul 
speech.  Characteristically  enough,  though  they  shared 
in  the  mockeries  of  the  mob,  they  kept  themselves 
separate.  The  crowd  pressed  near  enough  to  the  cross 
to  speak  their  gibes  to  Jesus ;  the  dignified  movers  of 
the  ignorant  crowd  stood  superciliously  apart,  and 
talked  scoffingly  about  Him.  Whilst  the  populace 
yelled,  *  Thou  that  destroyest  the  Temple  and  buildest 
it  in  three  days,  come  down,'  the  chief  priests,  with  the 
scribes,  looked  at  each  other  with  a  smile,  and  said, 
*He  saved  others ;  Himself  He  cannot  save.' 

Now,  these  brutal  taunts  have  lessons  for  us.  They 
witness  to  the  popular  impression  of  Christ,  and  what 
His  claims  were.  He  asserted  Himself  to  be  a  worker 
of  miracles,  the  Messiah-King  of  Israel,  the  Son  of 
God,  therefore  He  died.  And  they  witness  to  the  mis- 
conception which  ruled  in  the  minds  of  these  priests 
as  to  the  relation  of  His  claims  to  the  Cross.  They 
thought  that  it  had  finally  burst  the  bubble,  and  dis- 
posed once  for  all  of  these  absurd  and  blasphemous 
pretensions.  Was  it  credible  that  a  man  who  possessed 
miraculous  power  should  not,  in  this  supreme  moment, 

332 


vs.  41-43]  TAUNTS  AND  TESTIMONIES     333 

use  it  to  deliver  Himself?  Did  not  'Physician,  heal 
Thyself,'  come  in  properly  there  ?  Would  any  of  the 
most  besotted  followers  of  this  pretender  retain  a  rag 
of  belief  in  His  Messiahship  if  He  was  crucified  ?  Could 
it  be  possible  that,  if  there  was  a  God  at  all.  He  should 
leave  a  man  that  really  trusted  in  Him,  not  to  say  who 
was  really  His  Son,  to  die  thus  ?  A  cracked  mirror  gives 
a  distorted  image.  The  facts  were  seen,  but  their 
relation  was  twisted.  If  we  will  take  the  guidance  of 
these  gibes,  and  see  what  is  the  real  explanation  to  the 
anomaly  that  they  suggest,  then  we  shall  find  that 
the  taunts  turn  to  Him  for  a  testimony,  and  that 
•out  of  the  mouths'  of  mockers  there  is  'perfected 
praise.'  The  stones  flung  at  the  Master  turn  to  roses  X 
strewed  in  His  path. 

I.  So,  then,  first  the  Cross  shows  us  the  Saviour 
who  could  not  save  Himself. 

The  priests  did  not  believe  in  Christ's  miracles,  and 
they  thought  that  this  final  token  of  his  impotence,  as 
they  took  it  to  be,  was  clear  proof  that  the  miracles 
were  either  tricks  or  mistakes.  They  saw  the  two 
things,  they  fatally  misunderstood  the  relation  between 
them.    Let  us  put  the  two  things  together. 

Here,  on  the  one  hand,  is  a  Man  who  has  exercised 
absolute  authority  in  all  the  realms  of  the  universe, 
who  has  spoken  to  dead  matter,  and  it  has  obeyed ; 
who  by  His  word  has  calmed  the  storm,  and  hushed 
the  winds  by  His  word,  has  multiplied  bread,  has  trans- 
muted pale  water  into  ruddy  wine;  who  has  moved 
omnipotent  amongst  the  disturbed  minds  and  diseased 
bodies  of  men,  who  has  cast  His  sovereign  word  into 
the  depth  and  darkness  of  the  grave,  and  brought  out 
the  dead,  stumbling  and  entangled  in  the  grave-clothes. 
All  these  are  facts  on  the  one  side.     And  on  the  other 


334     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxvii. 

there  is  this — that  there,  passive,  and,  to  superficial 
eyes,  impotent,  He  hangs  the  helpless  Victim  of  Roman 
soldiers  and  of  Jewish  priests.  The  short  and  easy- 
vulgar  way  to  solve  the  apparent  contradiction  was 
to  deny  the  reality  of  the  one  of  its  members ;  to  say 
•  Miracles  ?  Absurd !  He  never  worked  one,  or  He 
would  have  been  working  one  now.' 

But  let  their  error  lead  us  into  truth,  and  let  us 
grasp  the  relation  of  the  two  apparently  contradictory 
facts.  '  He  saved  others,'  that  is  certain.  He  did  not 
'  save  Himself,'  that  is  as  certain.  Was  the  explanation 
'  cannot '  ?  The  priests  by  *  cannot '  meant  physical 
impossibility,  defect  of  power,  and  they  were  wrong. 
But  there  is  a  profound  sense  in  which  the  word 
'cannot'  is  absolutely  true.  For  this  is  in  all  time, 
and  in  all  human  relations,  the  law  of  service — sacri- 
fice; and  no  man  can  truly  help  humanity,  or  an 
individual,  unless  he  is  prepared  to  surrender  himself 
in  the  service.  The  lamp  burns  away  in  giving  light. 
The  fire  consumes  in  warming  the  hearth,  and  no 
brotherly  sympathy  or  help  has  ever  yet  been  rendered, 
or  ever  will  be,  except  at  the  price  of  self -surrender. 
Now,  some  people  think  that  this  is  the  whole  ex- 
planation of  our  Lord's  history,  both  in  His  life  and 
in  His  death.  I  do  not  believe  that  it  is  the  whole 
explanation,  but  I  do  believe  it  carries  us  some  way 
towards  the  central  sanctuary,  where  the  explanation 
lies.  And  yet  it  is  not  complete  or  adequate,  because, 
to  parallel  Christ's  work  with  the  work  of  any  of  the 
rest  of  us  to  our  brethren,  however  beautiful,  dis- 
interested, self-oblivious,  and  self-consuming  it  may 
be,  seems  to  me — I  say  it  with  deference,  though  I 
must  here  remember  considerations  of  brevity  and  be 
merely  assertive — entirely  to  ignore  the  unique  special 


vs.  41-43]  TAUNTS  AND  TESTIMONIES     335 

characteristic  of  the  work  of  Jesus  Christ — viz.,  that  it ''' 
wras  the  atonement  for  the  sins  of  the  world.  He  could 
not  bear  away  our  sins,  unless  the  burden  of  them  was 
laid  on  His  own  back,  and  He  carried  our  griefs,  our 
sorrows,  our  diseases,  and  our  transgressions.  'He 
saved  others.  Himself  He  cannot  save.'  But  the  im- 
possibility was  purely  the  result  of  His  own  willing 
and  obedient  love  ;  or,  if  I  put  it  in  more  epigrammatic 
form,  the  priests'  *  cannot'  was  partially  true,  but  if 
they  had  said  ^tcould  not'  they  would  have  hit  the 
mark,  and  come  to  full  truth.  The  reason  for  His 
death  becomes  clear,  and  each  of  the  contrasted  facts 
is  enhanced,  when  we  set  side  by  side  the  opulence 
and  ease  of  His  manifold  miracles  and  the  apparent 
impotence  and  resourcelessness  of  the  passive  Victim 
on  the  cross. 

That '  cannot '  did  not  come  from  defect  of  power,  but 
from  plenitude  of  love,  and  it  was  a  'will  not'  in  its 
deepest  depths.  For  you  will  find  scattered  throughout 
Scripture,  especially  these  Gospels,  indications  from  our 
Lord's  own  lips,  and  by  His  own  acts,  that,  in  the  truest 
and  fullest  sense,  His  sufferings  were  voluntary.  *  No 
man  taketh  it  from  me' — He  says  about  His  life — 'I 
have  power  to  lay  it  down,  and  I  have  power  to  take 
it  again.'  And  once  He  did  choose  to  flash  out  for  a 
moment  the  always  present  power,  that  we  might 
learn  that  when  it  did  not  appear,  it  was  not  because  ^ 
he  could  not,  but  because  he  would  not.  When  the 
soldiers  came  to  lay  their  hands  upon  Him,  He  pre- 
sented Himself  before  them,  saving  them  all  the 
trouble  of  search,  and  when  He  asked  a  question,  and 
received  the  answer  that  it  was  He  of  whom  they 
were  in  search,  there  came  one  sudden  apocalypse  of 
His  majesty,  and  they  fell  to  the  ground,  and  lay  there 


336     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxvii. 

prone  before  Him.  They  could  have  had  no  power  at 
all  against  Him,  except  He  had  willed  to  surrenier 
Himself  to  them.  Again,  though  it  is  hypercritical 
perhaps  to  attach  importance  to  what  may  only  be 
natural  idiomatic  forms  of  speech,  yet  in  this  connec- 
tion it  is  not  to  be  overlooked  that  the  language  of  all 
the  Evangelists,  in  describing  the  supreme  moment  of 
Christ's  death,  is  congruous  with  the  idea  that  He  died 
neither  from  the  exhaustion  of  crucifixion,  nor  from 
the  thrust  of  the  soldier's  spear,  but  because  He  would. 
For  they  all  have  expressions  equivalent  to  that  of  one 
of  them,  '  He  gave  up  His  spirit.'  Be  that  as  it  may, 
the  '  cannot '  was  a  *  will  not ' ;  and  it  was  neither  nails 
that  fastened  Him  to  the  tree,  nor  violence  that  slew 
Him,  but  He  was  fixed  there  by  His  own  steadfast  will, 
and  He  died  because  He  would.  So  if  we  rightly  under- 
stand the  '  cannot '  we  may  take  up  with  thankfulness 
the  taunt  which,  as  I  say,  is  tuned  to  a  testimony, 
and  reiterate  adoringly,  •  He  saved  others,  Himself  He 
cannot  save.' 

II.  The  Cross  shows  us  the  King  on  His  throne. 

To  the  priests  it  appeared  ludicrous  to  suppose  that 
a  King  of  Israel  should,  by  Israel,  be  nailed  upon  the 
cross.  '  Let  Him  come  down,  and  we  will  believe  Him.' 
They  saw  the  two  facts,  they  misconceived  their  rela- 
tion. There  was  a  relation  between  them,  and  it  is  not 
difficult  for  us  to  apprehend  it. 

The  Cross  is  Christ's  throne.  There  are  two  ways  in 
which  the  tragedy  of  His  crucifixion  is  looked  at  in 
the  Gospels,  one  that  prevails  in  the  three  first,  another 
that  prevails  in  the  fourth.  These  two  seem  super- 
ficially to  be  opposite ;  they  are  complementary.  It 
depends  upon  your  station  whether  a  point  in  the  sky 
is  your  zenith  or  your  nadir.     Here  it  is  your  zenith ; 


vs.  41-43]  TAUNTS  AND  TESTIMONIES     337 

at  the  antipodes  it  is  the  nadir.  In  the  first  three 
gospels  the  aspect  of  humiliation,  degradation,  inani- 
tion, suffering,  is  prominent  in  the  references  to  the 
Crucifixion.  In  the  fourth  gospel  the  aspect  of  glory 
and  triumph  is  uppermost.  *  Even  so  must  the  Son  of 
Man  be  lifted  up ' ;  '  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all 
men  unto  Me ';  'Now  the  hour  is  come  that  the  Son  of 
Man  should  be  glorified.'  And  it  is  His  glory,  for  on 
that  Cross  Jesus  Christ  manifests,  in  transcendent  and 
superlative  form,  at  once  power  and  love  that  are 
boundless  and  divine.  The  Cross  is  the  foundation  of 
His  kingdom.  In  his  great  passage  in  Philippians 
the  Apostle  brings  together,  in  the  closest  causal 
connection,  His  obedience  unto  death,  the  death  of 
the  Cross,  and  His  exaltation  and  reception  of  *the 
name  that  is  above  every  name,  that  at  the  name  of 
Jesus  every  knee  should  bow.'  The  title  over  the  Cross 
was  meant  for  a  gibe.  It  was  a  prophecy.  By  the 
Cross  He  becomes  the  '  King,'  and  not  only  the  '  King 
of  the  Jews.'  The  sceptre  that  was  put  in  His  hand, 
though  it  was  meant  for  a  sneer,  was  a  forecast  of  a 
truth,  for  He  rules,  not  with  a  rod  of  iron,  but  with 
the  reed  of  gentleness ;  and  the  crown  of  thorns,  that 
was  pressed  down  on  His  wounded  and  bleeding  head, 
foretold  for  our  faith  the  great  truth  that  suffering 
is  the  foundation  of  dominion,  and  that  men  will  bow 
as  to  their  King  and  Lord  before  Him  who  died  for 
them,  with  a  prostration  of  spirit,  a  loyalty  of  allegi- 
ance, and  an  alertness  of  service,  which  none  other, 
monarch  or  superior,  may  even  dream  of  attaining. 
The  Cross  establishes,  not  destroys,  Christ's  dominion 
over  men. 

Yes ;  and  that  Cross  wins  their  faith  as  nothing  else 
can.    The  blind  priests  said,  *  Let  Him  come  down,  and 
VOL.  III.  Y 


338     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxvii. 

we  will  believe  Him.'  Precisely  because  He  did  not 
come  down,  do  sad  and  sorrowful  and  sinful  hearts 
turn  to  Him  from  the  ends  of  the  earth,  and  from  the 
distances  of  the  ages  pour  the  treasures  of  their  trust 
and  their  love  at  His  feet.  Did  you  ever  think  how 
strange  it  is,  except  with  one  explanation,  that  the 
gibes  of  the  priests  did  not  turn  out  to  be  true  ?  Why 
is  it  that  Christ's  shameful  death  did  not  burst  the 
bubble,  as  they  thought  it  had  done  ?  Why  is  it  that 
in  His  case — and  I  was  going  to  say,  and  it  would  have 
been  no  exaggeration,  in  His  case  only — the  death  of 
the  leader  did  not  result  in  the  dispersion  of  the  led  ? 
Why  is  it  that  His  fate  and  future  were  the  opposite 
of  that  of  multitudes  of  other  pseudo-Messiahs,  of 
whom  it  is  trae  that  when  they  were  slain  their 
followers  came  to  nought  ?  Why  ?  There  is  only  one 
explanation,  I  think,  and  that  is  that  the  death  was 
not  the  end,  but  that  He  rose  again  from  the  dead.  My 
brother,  you  will  either  have  to  accept  the  Resurrec- 
tion, with  all  that  comes  from  it,  or  else  you  will  have 
to  join  the  ranks  of  the  priests,  and  consider  that 
Christ's  death  blew  to  atoms  Christ's  pretensions.  If 
we  know  anything  about  Him,  we  know  that  He  as- 
serted miraculous  power,  Messiahship,  and  a  filial 
relation  to  God.  These  things  are  facts.  Did  He  rise 
or  did  He  not?  If  He  did  not,  He  was  an  enthusiast. 
If  He  did.  He  is  the  King  to  whom  our  hearts  can 
cleave,  and  to  whom  our  loyalty  is  due. 

III.  Now,  lastly,  the  Cross  shows  us  the  Son,  beloved 
of  the  Father. 

The  priests  thought  that  it  was  altogether  incredible 
that  His  devotion  should  have  been  genuine,  or  His 
claim  to  be  the  Son  of  God  should  have  any  reality,  since 


vs.  41-43]  TAUNTS  AND  TESTIMONIES     339 

the  Cross,  to  their  vulgar  eyes,  disproved  them  both. 
Like  all  coarse-minded  people,  they  estimated  character 
by  condition,  but  they  who  do  that  make  no  end  of 
mistakes.  They  had  forgotten  their  own  Prophecies, 
which  might  have  told  them  that '  the  Servant  of  the 
Lord  in  whom '  His  '  heart  delighted,'  was  a  sujffering 
Servant.  But  whilst  they  recognised  the  facts,  here 
again,  as  in  the  other  two  cases,  they  misconceived 
the  relation.  We  have  the  means  of  rectifying  the 
distorted  image. 

We  ought  to  know,  and  to  be  sure,  that  the  Cross  of 
Christ  was  the  very  token  that  this  was  God's  '  beloved 
Son  in  whom  He  was  well  pleased.'  If  we  dare  venture 
on  the  comparison  of  parts  of  that  which  is  all  homo- 
geneous and  perfect,  we  might  say  that  in  the  moment 
of  His  death  Jesus  Christ  was  more  than  ever  the 
object  of  the  Father's  delight. 

Why?  It  is  not  my  purpose  now  to  enlarge  upon 
all  the  reasons  which  might  be  suggested.  Let  me  put 
them  together  in  a  sentence  or  two.  In  that  Cross  w 
Jesus  Christ  revealed  God  as  God's  heart  had  always 
yearned  to  be  revealed,  infinite  in  love,  pitifulness,  for- 
bearance, and  pardoning  mercy.  There  was  the  highest 
manifestation  of  the  glory  of  God.  '  What  ? '  you  say, 
*  a  poor  weak  Man,  hanging  on  a  cross,  and  dying  in 
the  dark — is  that  the  very  shining  apex  of  all  that 
humanity  can  know  of  divinity  ? '  Yes,  for  it  is  the 
pure  manifestation  that  God  is  Love.  Therefore  the 
whole  sunshine  of  the  Father's  presence  rested  on  the 
dying  Saviour.  It  was  the  hour  when  God  most 
delighted  in  Him,  if  I  may  venture  the  comparison, 
for  the  other  reasons  that  then  He  carried  filial 
obedience  to  its  utmost  perfection,  that  then  His  trust 


340     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxvii. 

in  God  was  deepest,  even  at  the  hour  when  His  spirit 
was  darkened  by  the  cloud  that  the  world's  sin,  which 
He  was  carrying,  had  spread  thunderous  between  Him 
and  the  sunshine  of  the  Father's  face.  For  in  that 
mysterious  voice,  which  we  can  never  understand  in 
its  depths,  there  were  blended  trust  and  desolation, 
each  in  its  highest  degree :  '  My  God !  my  God !  Why 
hast  Thou  forsaken  Me  ? '  And  the  Cross  was  the  com- 
plete carrying  out  of  God's  dearest  purpose  for  the 
world,  that  He  might  be  *  just,  and  the  justifier  of  him 
that  believeth  in  Jesus.'  Therefore,  then — I  was  going 
to  say  as  never  before — was  Christ  His  Son,  in  whom 
He  delighted. 

Brethren,  let  us,  led  by  the  errors  of  these  scoffers, 
grasp  the  truths  that  they  pervert.  Let  us  see  that 
weak  Man  hanging  helpless  on  the  cross,  whose  '  can- 
not '  is  the  impotence  of  omnipotence,  imposed  by  His 
own  loving  will  to  save  a  world  by  the  sacrifice  of 
Himself.  Let  us  crown  Him  our  King,  and  let  our 
deepest  trust  and  our  gladdest  obedience  be  rendered 
to  Him  because  He  did  not  come  down  from,  but 
'  endured,  the  cross.'  Let  us  behold  with  wonder,  awe, 
and  endless  love  the  Father  not  withholding  His 
only  Son,  but  'delivering  Him  up  to  the  death  for 
us  all,'  and  from  the  empty  grave  and  the  occupied 
Throne  let  us  learn  how  the  Father  by  both  pro- 
claims to  all  the  world  concerning  Him  hanging 
dying  on  the  cross  :  *  This  is  My  beloved  Son,  in  whom 
I  am  well  pleased.' 


THE  VEIL  RENT 

*  Behold,  the  veil  of  the  Temple  was  rent  in  twain  from  the  top  to  the  bottom.' 

Matt,  xxvii.  51. 

As  I  suppose  we  are  all  aware,  the  Jewish  Temple  was 
divided  into  three  parts :  the  Outer  Court,  open  to  all ; 
the  Holy  Place,  to  which  the  ministering  priests  had 
daily  access  to  burn  incense  and  trim  the  lamps ;  and 
the  Holy  of  Holies,  where  only  the  High  Priest  was 
permitted  to  go,  and  that  but  once  a  year,  on  the  great 
Day  of  Atonement.  For  the  other  three  hundred  and 
sixty-four  days  the  shrine  lay  silent,  untrodden,  dark. 
Between  it  and  the  less  sacred  Holy  Place  hung  the 
veil,  whose  heavy  folds  only  one  man  was  permitted  to 
lift  or  to  pass.  To  all  others  it  was  death  to  peer  into 
the  mysteries,  and  even  to  him,  had  he  gone  at  another 
time,  and  without  the  blood  of  the  sacrifice,  death 
would  have  ensued. 

If  we  remember  all  this  and  try  to  cast  ourselves 
back  in  imagination  to  the  mental  attitude  of  the 
ordinary  Jew,  the  incident  of  my  text  receives  its  true 
interpretation.  At  the  moment  when  the  loud  cry  of 
the  dying  Christ  rung  over  the  heads  of  the  awestruck 
multitude,  that  veil  was,  as  it  were,  laid  hold  of  by  a 
pair  of  giant  hands  and  torn  asunder,  as  the  Evangelist 
says,  *  from  the  top  to  the  bottom.'  The  incident  was 
a  symbol.  In  one  aspect  it  proclaimed  the  end  of  the 
long  years  of  Israel's  prerogative.  In  another  it  ushered 
in  an  epoch  of  new  relations  between  man  and  God. 
If  Jesus  Christ  was  what  He  said  He  was,  if  His  death 
was  what  He  declared  it  to  be,  it  was  fitting  that  it 
should  be  attended  by  a  train  of  subordinate  and  inter- 
preting wonders.    These  were,  besides  that  of  my  text, 

841 


342    GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.xxvii. 

the  darkened  sun,  the  trembling  earth,  the  shivered 
rocks,  the  open  graves,  the  rising  saints — all  of  them,  in 
their  several  ways,  illuminating  the  significance  of 
that  death  on  Calvary. 

Not  less  significant  is  this  symbol  of  my  text,  and  I 
desire  now  to  draw  your  attention  to  its  meanings. 

I.  The  rent  veil  proclaims  the  desecrated  temple. 

There  is  a  striking  old  legend,  preserved  by  the  some- 
i~  what  mendacious  historian  of  the  Jewish  people,  that, 
before  Jerusalem  fell,  the  anxious  watchers  heard  from 
within  the  sanctuary  a  great  voice  saying,  'Let  us 
depart  hence!'  and  through  the  night  were  conscious 
of  the  winnowing  of  the  mighty  wings  of  the  with- 
drawing cherubim.  And  soon  a  Roman  soldier  tossed 
a  brand  into  the  most  Holy  Place,  and  the  *  beautiful 
house  where  their  fathers  praised  was  burned  with 
fire.'  The  legend  is  pathetic  and  significant.  But  that 
'  departing '  had  taken  place  forty  years  before  ;  and  at 
the  moment  when  Jesus  '  gave  up  the  ghost,'  purged 
eyes  might  have  seen  the  long  trail  of  brightness  as 
the  winged  servitors  of  the  Most  High  withdrew  from 
the  desecrated  shrine.  The  veil  rent  declared  that  the 
sacred  soil  within  it  was  now  common  as  any  foot  of 
earth  in  Galilee ;  and  its  rending,  so  to  speak,  made 
way  for  a  departing  God. 

That  conception,  that  the  death  of  Christ  Jesus  was 
the  de-consecration — if  I  may  coin  a  word — of  the 
Temple,  and  the  end  of  all  its  special  sanctity,  and  that 
thenceforward  the  Presence  had  departed  from  it,  is 
distinctly  enough  taught  us  by  Himself  in  words  which 
move  in  the  same  circle  of  ideas  as  that  in  which  the 
symbol  resides.  You  remember,  no  doubt,  that,  if  we 
accept  the  testimony  of  John's  Gospel,  at  the  very 
beginning  of  our  Lord's  ministry  He  vindicated  His 


V.  51]  THE  VEIL  RENT  343 

authority  to  cleanse  the  sanctuary  against  the  cavils 
of  the  sticklers  for  propriety  by  the  enigmatical  words, 
*  Destroy  this  Temple,  and  in  three  days  I  will  build  it 
up,'  to  which  the  Evangelist  appends  the  comment, 
'He  spake  of  the  Temple  of  His  body,'  that  body  in 
which  '  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead '  dwelt,  and 
which  was,  and  is  to-day,  all  that  the  Temple  shadowed 
and  foretold,  the  dwelling-place  of  God  in  humanity, 
the  place  of  sacrifice,  the  meeting-place  between  God 
and  man.  But  just  because  our  Lord  in  these  dark 
words  predicted  His  death  and  His  resurrection.  He 
also  hinted  the  destruction  of  the  literal  stone  and 
lime  building,  and  its  rearing  again  in  nobler  and 
more  spiritual  form.  When  He  said,  'Destroy  this 
Temple,'  He  implied,  secondarily,  the  destruction  of  the 
house  in  which  He  stood,  and  laid  that  destruction, 
whensoever  it  should  come  to  pass,  at  their  doors. 
And,  inasmuch  as  the  saying  in  its  deepest  depth  meant 
His  death  by  their  violence  and  craft,  therefore,  in  that 
early  saying  of  His,  was  wrapped  up  the  very  same 
truth  which  was  symbolised  by  the  rent  veil,  and  was 
bitterly  fulfilled  at  last.  When  they  slew  Christ  they 
killed  the  system  under  which  they  lived,  and  for 
which  they  would  have  been  glad  to  die,  in  a  zeal 
without  knowledge;  and  destroyed  the  very  Temple 
on  the  distorted  charge  of  being  the  destroyer  of 
which,  they  handed  Him  over  to  the  Roman  power. 

The  death  of  Christ  is,  then,  the  desecration  and  the 
destruction  of  that  Temple.  Of  course  it  is ;  because 
when  a  nation  that  had  had  millenniums  of  education, 
of  forbearance,  of  revelation,  turned  at  last  upon  the 
very  climax  and  brightest  central  light  of  all  the 
Revelation,  standing  there  amongst  them  in  a  bodily 
form,  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  done.    God  had 


344     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.xxvii. 

shot  His  last  arrow ;  His  quiver  was  empty.  •  Last  of 
all  He  sent  unto  them  His  Son,  saying,'  with  a  wistful 
kind  of  half-confidence,  *  They  will  reverence  My  Son,' 
and  the  divine  expectation  was  disappointed,  and 
exhaustless  Love  was  empty-handed,  and  all  was  over. 
He  could  turn  to  themselves  and  say,  '  Judge  between 
Me  and  My  vineyard.  What  more  could  have  been 
done  that  I  have  not  done  to  it?'  Therefore,  there 
was  nothing  left  but  to  let  the  angels  of  destruction 
loose,  and  to  call  for  the  Roman  eagles  with  their 
broad-spread  wings,  and  their  bloody  beaks,  and  their 
strong  talons,  to  gather  together  round  the  carcase. 
When  He  gave  up  the  Ghost,  '  the  veil  of  the  Temple 
was  rent  in  twain  from  the  top  to  the  bottom.' 

A  time  of  repentance  was  given.  It  was  possible  for 
the  most  guilty  participator  in  that  judicial  murder  to 
have  his  gory  hands  washed  and  made  white  in  the 
very  blood  that  he  had  shed ;  but,  failing  repentance, 
that  death  was  the  death  of  Israel,  and  the  destruc- 
tion of  Israel's  Temple.  Let  us  take  the  lesson,  dear 
brethren.  If  we  turn  away  from  that  Saviour,  and 
refuse  the  offered  gifts  of  His  love,  there  is  no  other 
appeal  left  in  the  power  of  Heaven ;  and  there  is 
nothing  for  it  after  that  except  judgment  and  destruc- 
tion. We  can  '  crucify  the  Son  of  God  afresh  and  put 
Him  to  an  open  shame.'  And  the  hearts  that  are  in- 
sensitive, as  are  some  of  our  hearts,  to  that  great  love 
and  grace,  are  capable  of  nothing  except  to  be  pulver- 
ised by  means  of  a  judgment.  Repentance  is  possible 
for  us  all,  but,  failing  that,  the  continuance  of  rejection 
of  Christ  is  the  pulling  down,  on  our  own  heads,  of  the 
ruins  of  the  Temple,  like  the  Israelitish  hero  in  his 
blindness  and  despair. 

II.  Now,  secondly,  the  rent  veil  means,  in  another 


V.  51]  THE  VEIL  RENT  345 

way  of  looking  at  the  incident,  light  streaming  in  on 
the  mystery  of  God. 

Let  me  recall  to  your  imaginations  what  lay  behind 
that  heavy  veil.  In  the  Temple,  in  our  Lord's  time, 
there  was  no  presence  of  the  Shekinah,  the  light  that 
symbolised  the  divine  presence.  There  was  the  mercy- 
seat,  with  the  outstretched  wings  of  the  cherubim; 
there  were  the  dimly  pictured  forms  on  the  tapestry 
hangings ;  there  was  silence  deep  as  death ;  there  was 
darkness  absolute  and  utter,  whilst  the  Syrian  sun  was 
blazing  down  outside.  Surely  that  is  the  symbol  of 
the  imperfect  knowledge  or  illumination  as  to  the 
divine  nature  which  is  over  all  the  world.  '  The  veil  is 
spread  over  all  nations,  and  the  covering  over  all  people. 
And  surely  that  sudden,  sharp  tearing  asunder  of  the 
obscuring  medium,  and  letting  the  bright  sunlight 
stream  into  every  corner  of  the  dark  chamber,  is  for 
us  a  symbol  of  the  great  fact  that  in  the  life,  and 
especially  in  the  death,  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  we 
have  light  thrown  in  to  the  depths  of  God. 

What  does  that  Cross  tell  us  about  God  that  the 
world  did  not  know?  And  how  does  it  tell  us?  and 
why  does  it  tell  us  ?  It  tells  us  of  absolute  righteous- 
ness, of  that  in  the  divine  nature  which  cannot 
tolerate  sin ;  of  the  stern  law  of  retribution  which 
must  be  wrought  out,  and  by  which  the  wages  of 
every  sin  is  death.  It  tells  us  not  only  of  a  divine 
righteousness  which  sees  guilt  and  administers 
punishment,  but  it  tells  us  of  a  divine  love,  perfect, 
infinite,  utter,  perennial,  which  shrinks  from  no 
sacrifice,  which  stoops  to  the  lowest  conditions,  which 
itself  takes  upon  it  all  the  miseries  of  humanity,  and 
which  dies  because  it  loves  and  will  save  men  from 
death.    And  as  we  look  upon  that  dying  Man  hanging 


346     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.xxvii. 

on  the  cross,  the  very  embodiment  and  consummation 
of  weakness  and  of  shame,  we  have  to  say, '  Lo  !  this  is 
our  God !  We  have  waited  for  Him ' — through  all  the 
weary  centuries — '  and  He  will  save  us.'  How  does  it 
tell  us  all  this  ?  Not  by  eloquent  and  gracious  thoughts, 
not  by  sweet  and  musical  words,  but  by  a  deed.  The 
only  way  by  which  we  can  know  men  is  by  what  they 
do.  The  only  way  by  which  we  know  God  is  by  what 
He  does.  And  so  we  point  to  that  Cross  and  say, 
'  There  !  not  in  words,  not  in  thoughts,  not  in  specula- 
tions, not  in  hopes  and  fears  and  peradventures  and 
dim  intuitions,  but  in  a  solid  fact ;  there  is  the  Revela- 
tion which  lays  bare  the  heart  of  God,  and  shows  us 
its  very  throbbing  of  love  to  every  human  soul.'  *  The 
veil  was  rent  in  twain  from  the  top  to  the  bottom.' 

The  Cross  will  reveal  God  to  you  only  if  you  believe 
that  Jesus  Christ  was  the  Incarnate  Word.  Brethren, 
if  that  death  was  but  the  death  of  even  the  very 
holiest,  noblest,  sweetest,  perfectest  soul  that  ever 
lived  on  earth  and  breathed  human  breath,  there  is  no 
revelation  of  God  in  it  for  us.  It  tells  us  what  Jesus 
was,  and  by  a  very  roundabout  inference  may  suggest 
something  of  what  the  divine  nature  is,  but  unless  you 
can  say,  as  the  New  Testament  says,  '  In  the  beginning 
was  the  Word,  and  the  Word  was  with  God,  and  the 
Word  was  God.  .  .  .  And  the  Word  was  made  flesh, 
and  dwelt  among  us,  and  we  beheld  His  glory,  the 
glory  as  of  the  only  Begotten  of  the  Father,  full  of 
grace  and  truth,'  I  fail  to  see  how  the  death  of  Christ 
can  be  a  revelation  of  the  love  of  God. 

I  need  not  occupy  time  in  dilating  upon  the  contrast 

between  this  solid  certitude,  and  all  that  the  world, 

apart  from  Jesus  Christ,  has  to  lay  hold  of   about 

,    God.     We  want  something  else  than  mist  on  which 


V.  61]  THE  VEIL  RENT  347 

to  build,  and  on  which  to  lay  hold.  And  there  is  a 
substantial,  warm,  flesh-and-blood  hand,  if  I  may  so 
say,  put  out  to  us  through  the  mist  when  we  believe  in 
Christ  the  Son  of  God,  who  died  on  the  cross  for  us 
all.  Then,  amidst  whirling  mists  and  tossing  seas, 
there  is  a  fixed  point  to  which  we  can  moor ;  then  our 
confidence  is  built,  not  on  peradventures  or  speculations 
or  wishes  or  dreams  or  hopes,  but  on  a  historical  fact, 
and  grasping  that  firm  we  may  stand  unmoved. 

Dear  friends,  I  may  be  very  old-fashioned  and  very 
narrow — I  suppose  I  am ;  but  I  am  bound  to  declare 
my  conviction,  which  I  think  every  day's  experience  of 
the  tendency  of  thought  only  makes  more  certain,  that, 
practically  for  this  generation,  the  choice  lies  between 
accepting  the  life  and  death  of  Jesus  Christ  as  the 
historical  Revelation  of  God,  or  having  no  knowledge 
of  Him — knoivledge,  I  say, — of  Him  at  all;  you  must 
choose  between  the  barred  sanctuary,  within  which 
lies  couched  a  hidden  Something — with  a  capital  S — or 
perhaps  a  hidden  Someone  whom  you  never  can  know 
and  never  will ;  or  the  rent  veil,  rent  by  Christ's  death, 
through  which  you  can  pass,  and  behold  the  mercy- 
seat  and,  above  the  outstretched  wings  of  the  adoring 
cherubim,  the  Father  whose  name  is  Love. 

III.  Lastly,  the  rent  veil  permits  any  and  every 
man  to  draw  near  to  God. 

You  remember  what  I  have  already  said  as  to  the 
jealous  guarding  of  the  privacy  of  that  inner  shrine, 
and  how  not  only  the  common  herd  of  the  laity,  but 
the  whole  of  the  priesthood,  with  the  solitary  exception 
of  its  titular  head,  were  shut  out  from  ever  entering 
it.  In  the  old  times  of  Israel  there  was  only  one  man 
alive  at  once  who  had  ever  been  beyond  the  veil.  And 
now  that  it  is  rent,  what  does  that  show  but  this,  that 


348     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxvii. 

by  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ  any  one,  every  one,  is 
welcome  to  pass  in  to  the  very  innermost  sanctuary, 
and  to  dwell,  nestling  as  close  as  he  will,  to  the  very 
heart  of  the  throned  God  ?  There  is  a  double  veil,  if  I 
may  so  say,  between  man  and  God:  the  side  turned 
outward  is  woven  by  our  own  sins;  and  the  other 
turned  inwards  is  made  out  of  the  necessary  antagonism 
of  the  divine  nature  to  man's  sin.  There  hangs  the 
veil,  and  when  the  Psalmist  asked,  *  Who  shall  ascend 
into  the  hill  of  the  Lord;  or  who  shall  stand  in  His 
holy  place  ? '  he  was  putting  a  question  which  echoes 
despairingly  in  the  very  heart  of  all  religions.  And 
he  answered  it  as  conscience  ever  answers  it  when  it 
gets  fair  play :  '  He  that  hath  clean  hands  and  a  pure 
heart,  who  hath  not  lifted  up  his  soul  unto  vanity.' 
And  where  or  who  is  he  ?  Nowhere ;  nobody.  Access 
is  barred,  because  it  is  impossible  that  a  holy  and 
righteous  God  should  communicate  the  selectest  gifts 
of  His  love,  even  the  sense  of  His  favour,  and  of 
harmony  and  fellowship  with  Him,  to  sinful  men,  and 
barred,  because  it  is  impossible  that  men,  with  the 
consciousness  of  evil  and  the  burden  of  guilt  sometimes 
chafing  their  shoulders,  and  always  bowing  down  their 
backs,  should  desire  to  possess,  or  be  capable  of  possess- 
ing, that  fellowship  and  union  with  God.  A  black, 
frowning  wall,  if  I  may  change  the  metaphor  of  my  text, 
rises  between  us  and  God.  But  One  comes  with  the 
sacrificial  vessel  in  His  hand,  and  pours  His  blood  on  the 
barrier,  and  that  melts  the  black  blocks  that  rise  between 
us  and  God,  and  the  path  is  patent  and  permeable  for 
every  foot.  '  The  veil  of  the  Temple  was  rent  in  twain ' 
when  Christ  died.  That  death,  because  it  is  a  sacrifice, 
makes  it  possible  that  the  whole  fulness  of  the  divine 
love  should  be  poured  upon  man.    That  death  moves 


V.  51]  THE  VEIL  RENT  849 

our  hearts,  takes  away  our  sense  of  guilt,  draws  us 
nearer  to  Him ;  and  so  both  by  its  operation — not  on 
the  love  of  God — but  on  the  government  of  God,  and 
by  its  operation  on  the  consciousness  of  men,  throws 
open  the  path  into  His  very  presence. 

If  I  might  use  abstract  words,  I  would  say  that 
Christ's  death  potentially  opens  the  path  for  every 
man,  which  being  put  into  plain  English — which  is 
better — is  just  that  by  the  death  of  Christ  every  man 
can,  if  he  will,  go  to  God,  and  live  beside  Him.  And 
our  faith  is  our  personal  laying  hold  of  that  great 
sacrifice  and  treading  on  that  path.  It  turns  the 
*  potentiality '  into  an  actuality,  the  possibility  into  a 
fact.  If  we  believe  on  Him  who  died  on  the  cross  for 
us  all,  then  by  that  way  we  come  to  God,  than  which 
there  is  none  other  given  under  heaven  among  men. 

So  all  believers  are  priests,  or  none  of  them  are.  The 
absolute  right  of  direct  access  to  God,  without  the  inter- 
vention of  any  man  who  has  an  officially  greater  near- 
ness to  Him  than  others,  and  through  whom  as  through 
a  channel  the  grace  of  sacrament  comes,  is  contained 
in  the  great  symbol  of  my  text.  And  it  is  a  truth  that 
this  day  needs.  On  the  one  hand  there  is  agnostic 
unbelief,  which  needs  to  see  in  the  rent  veil  the  illumin- 
ation streaming  through  it  on  to  the  depths  of  God ; 
and  on  the  other  hand  there  is  the  complementary 
error — and  the  two  always  breed  each  other — the 
superstition  which  drags  back  by  an  anachronism  the 
old  Jewish  notions  of  priesthood  into  the  Christian 
Church.  It  needs  to  see  in  the  rent  veil  the  charter  of 
universal  priesthood  for  all  believers,  and  to  hearken  to 
the  words  which  declare,  *  Ye  are  a  chosen  generation, 
a  spiritual  house,  a  royal  priesthood,  that  ye  should 
offer  up  spiritual  sacrifices  acceptable  unto  God  by 


350     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxviii. 

Jesus  Christ.'  That  is  the  lesson  that  this  day  wants. 
'Having,  therefore,  brethren,  boldness  to  enter  into 
the  holiest  of  all,  by  the  blood  of  Jesus,  by  a  new  and 
living  way,  which  He  has  consecrated  for  us  through 
the  veil,  that  is  His  flesh,  let  us  draw  near  with  true 
hearts  in  full  assurance  of  faith.' 

THE  PRINCE  OF  LIFE 

'In  the  end  of  the  Sabbath,  as  it  began  to  dawn  toward  the  first  day  of  the  week, 
came  Mary  Magdalene  and  the  other  Mary  to  see  the  sepulchre.  2.  And,  behold, 
there  was  a  great  earthquake  :  for  the  angel  of  the  Lord  descended  from  heaven, 
and  came  and  rolled  back  the  stone  from  the  door,  and  sat  upon  it.  3.  His  coun- 
tenance was  like  lightning,  and  his  raiment  white  as  snow :  i.  And  for  fear  of  him 
the  keepers  did  shake,  and  became  as  dead  men.  5.  And  the  angel  answered  and 
said  unto  the  women.  Fear  not  ye :  for  I  know  that  ye  seek  Jesus,  which  was 
crucified.  6.  He  is  not  here :  for  He  is  risen,  as  He  said.  Come,  see  the  place 
where  the  Lord  lay.  7.  And  go  quickly,  and  tell  His  disciples  that  He  is  risen 
from  the  dead  ;  and,  behold.  He  goeth  before  you  into  Galilee ;  there  shall  ye  see 
Him :  lo,  I  have  told  you.  8.  And  they  departed  quickly  from  the  sepulchre  with 
fear  and  great  joy ;  and  did  run  to  bring  His  disciples  word.  9.  And  as  they  went 
to  tell  His  disciples,  behold,  Jesus  met  them,  saying,  All  haU.  And  they  came  and 
held  Him  by  the  feet,  and  worshipped  Him.  10.  Then  said  Jesus  unto  them,  Be 
not  afraid :  go  tell  My  brethren  that  they  go  into  Galilee,  and  there  shall  they  see 
Me.  11.  Now,  when  they  were  going,  behold,  some  of  the  watch  came  into  the 
city,  and  shewed  unto  the  chief  priests  all  the  things  that  were  done.  12.  And 
when  they  were  assembled  with  the  elders,  and  had  taken  counsel,  they  gave  large 
money  unto  the  soldiers,  13.  Saying,  Say  ye.  His  disciples  came  by  night,  and 
stole  Him  away  while  we  slept.  14.  And  if  this  come  to  the  governor's  ears,  we 
will  persuade  him,  and  secure  you.  15.  So  they  took  the  money,  and  did  as  they 
were  taught :  and  this  saying  is  commonly  reported  among  the  Jews  until  this 
day.'— Matt,  xxviii.  1-15. 

The  attempts  at  harmonising  the  resurrection  narra- 
tives are  not  only  unsatisfactory,  but  they  tend  to  blur 
the  distinctive  characteristics  of  each  account.  We  shall 
therefore  confine  ourselves  entirely  to  Matthew's  ver- 
sion, and  leave  the  others  alone,  with  the  simple  remark 
that  a  condensed  report  of  a  series  of  events  does  not 
deny  what  it  omits,  nor  contradict  a  fuller  one.  The 
peculiarities  of  Matthew's  last  chapter  are  largely  due 
to  the  purpose  of  his  gospel.  Throughout,  it  has  been 
the  record  of  the  Galilean  ministry,  the  picture  of  the 
King  of  Israel,  and  of  His  treatment  by  those  who 
should  have  been  His  subjects.     This  chapter  estab- 


vs.  1-15]        THE  PRINCE  OF  LIFE  351 

lisbes  the  fact  of  His  resurrection ;  but,  passing  by  the 
Jerusalem  appearances  of  the  risen  Lord,  as  being 
granted  to  individuals  and  having  less  bearing  on  His 
royalty,  emphasises  two  points :  His  rejection  by  the 
representatives  of  the  nation,  whose  lie  is  endorsed 
by  popular  acceptance;  and  the  solemn  assumption, 
in  Galilee,  so  familiar  to  the  reader,  of  universal 
dominion,  with  the  world-wide  commission,  in  which 
the  kingdom  bursts  the  narrow  national  limits  and 
becomes  co-extensive  with  humanity.  It  is  better  to 
learn  the  meaning  of  Matthew's  selection  of  his  in- 
cidents than  to  wipe  out  instructive  peculiarities  in 
the  vain  attempt  after  harmony. 

First,  notice  his  silence  (in  which  all  the  four  narra- 
tives are  alike)  as  to  the  time  and  circumstances  of  the 
resurrection  itself.  That  had  taken  place  before  the 
grey  twilight  summoned  the  faithful  women,  and 
before  the  earthquake  and  the  angel's  descent.  No 
eye  saw  Him  rise.  The  guards  were  not  asleep,  for  the 
statement  that  they  were  is  a  lie  put  into  their  mouths 
by  the  rulers;  but  though  they  kept  jealous  watch. 
His  rising  was  invisible  to  them.  '  The  prison  was  shut 
with  all  safety,'  for  the  stone  was  rolled  away  after  He 
was  risen, '  and  the  keepers  standing  before  the  doors,' 
but  there  was  '  no  man  within.'  As  in  the  evening  of 
that  day  He  appeared  in  the  closed  chamber,  so  He 
passed  from  the  sealed  grave.  Divine  decorum  required 
that  that  transcendent  act  should  be  done  without 
mortal  observers  of  the  actual  rising  of  the  Sun  which 
scatters  for  ever  the  darkness  of  death. 

Matthew  next  notices  the  angel  ministrant  and 
herald.  His  narrative  leaves  the  impression  that  the 
earthquake  and  appearance  of  the  angel  immediately 
preceded  the  arrival  of  the  women,  and  the  '  Behold ! ' 


352     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxviii. 

suggests  that  they  felt  and  saw  both.  But  that  is  a 
piece  of  chronology  on  which  there  may  be  difference 
of  opinion.  The  other  narratives  tell  of  two  angels. 
Matthew's  mention  of  one  only  may  be  due  either  to 
the  fact  that  one  was  speaker,  or  to  the  subjective 
impressions  of  his  informant,  who  saw  but  the  one,  or 
to  variation  in  the  number  visible  at  different  times. 
We  know  too  little  of  the  laws  which  determine  their 
appearances  to  be  warranted  in  finding  contradiction 
or  difficulty  here.  The  power  of  seeing  may  depend  on 
the  condition  of  the  beholder.  It  may  depend,  not  as 
with  gross  material  bodies,  on  optics,  but  on  the  voli- 
tion of  the  radiant  beings  seen.  They  may  pass  from 
visibility  to  its  opposite,  lightly  and  repeatedly,  flicker- 
ing into  and  out  of  sight,  as  the  Pleiades  seem  to  do. 
Where  there  is  such  store  of  possibilities,  he  is  rash 
who  talks  glibly  about  contradictions. 

Of  far  more  value  is  it  to  note  the  purpose  served 
by  this  waiting  angel.  We  heard  much  of  a  herald 
angel  of  the  Lord  in  the  story  of  the  Nativity. 
We  hear  nothing  of  him  during  the  life  of  Christ. 
^kNow  again  he  appears,  as  the  stars,  quenched  in  the 
noontide,  shine  again  when  the  sun  is  out  of  the 
sky.  He  attends  as  humble  servitor,  in  token  that 
the  highest  beings  gazed  on  that  empty  grave  with 
reverent  adoration,  and  were  honoured  by  being 
allowed  to  guard  the  sacred  place.  Death  was  an 
undreaded  thing  to  them,  and  no  hopes  for  themselves 
blossomed  from  Christ's  grave ;  but  He  who  had  lain 
in  it  was  their  King  as  well  as  ours,  and  new  lessons  of 
divine  love  were  taught  them,  as  they  wondered  and 
watched.  They  come  to  minister  by  act  and  word  to 
the  weeping  women's  faith  and  joy.  Their  appearance 
paralyses  the  guards,  who  would  have  kept  the  Marys 


vs.  1-15]        THE  PRINCE  OF  LIFE  353 

from  the  grave.  They  roll  away  the  great  circular 
stone,  which  women's  hands,  however  nerved  by  love, 
could  not  have  moved  in  its  grooves.  They  speak 
tender  words  to  them.  There  by  the  empty  tomb,  the 
strong  heavenly  and  the  weak  earthly  lovers  of  the 
risen  King  meet  together,  and  clasp  hands  of  help,  the 
pledge  and  first-fruits  of  the  standing  order  henceforth, 
and  the  inauguration  of  their  office  of  '  ministering 
spirits,  sent  forth  to  minister  for  .  .  .  heirs  of  salvation.' 
The  risen  Christ  hath  made  both  one.  The  servants  of 
the  same  King  must  needs  be  friends  of  one  another. 

The  angel's  words  fall  into  three  parts.  First,  he 
calms  fears  by  the  assurance  that  the  seekers  for 
Christ  are  dear  to  Him.  'Fear  not  ye'  glances  at 
the  prostrate  watchers,  and  almost  acknowledges  the 
reasonableness  of  their  abject  terror.  To  them  he 
could  not  but  be  hostile,  but  to  hearts  that  longed  for 
their  and  his  Lord,  he  and  all  his  mighty  fellows  were 
brethren.  Let  us  learn  that  all  God's  angels  are  our 
lovers  and  helpers,  if  we  love  and  seek  for  Jesus. 
Superstition  has  peopled  the  gulf  between  God  and 
man  with  crowds  of  beings ;  revelation  assures  us  that 
it  is  full  of  creatures  who  excel  in  strength.  Men  have 
cowered  before  them,  but '  whether  they  be  thrones,  or 
dominions,  or  principalities,  or  powers,'  our  King  was 
their  Creator,  and  is  their  Sovereign,  and,  if  we  serve 
Him,  all  these  are  on  our  side.  The  true  deliverer 
from  superstitious  terrors  is  the  risen  Christ.  Again, 
the  angel  announces  in  simplest  words  the  glorious 
fact,  *  He  is  risen,'  and  helps  them  to  receive  it  by  a 
double  way.  He  reminds  them  of  Christ's  own  words, 
which  had  seemed  so  mysterious  and  had  turned  out 
so  simple,  so  incredible,  and  now  had  proved  so  true. 
He  calls  them  with  a  smile  of  welcome  to  draw  near, 
VOL.  Ill,  Z 


354     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxviii. 

and  with  him  to  look  into  the  empty  place.  The 
invitation  extends  to  us  all,  for  the  one  assurance  of 
immortality;  and  the  only  answer  to  the  despairing 
question, '  If  a  man  die,  shall  he  live  again  ? '  which  is 
solid  enough  to  resist  the  corrosion  of  modern  doubt 
as  of  ancient  ignorance,  is  that  empty  grave,  and  the 
filled  throne,  which  was  its  necessary  consequence.  By 
it  we  measure  the  love  that  stooped  so  low,  we  school 
our  hearts  to  anticipate  without  dread  or  reluctance 
our  own  lying  down  there,  we  fasten  our  faith  on 
the  risen  Forerunner,  and  rejoice  in  the  triumphant 
assurance  of  a  living  Christ.  If  the  wonder  of  the 
women's  stunned  gaze  is  no  more  ours,  our  calm  accep- 
tance of  the  familiar  fact  need  be  none  the  less  glad, 
and  our  estimate  of  its  far-reaching  results  more  com- 
plete than  their  tumult  of  feeling  permitted  to  them. 

No  wonder  that,  swiftly,  new  duty  which  was  privi- 
lege followed  on  the  new,  glad  knowledge.  It  was 
emphatically  *a  day  of  good  tidings,'  and  they  could 
not  hold  their  peace.  A  brief  glance,  enough  for 
certitude  and  joy,  was  permitted ;  and  then,  with 
urgent  haste,  they  are  sent  to  be  apostles  to  the 
Apostles.  The  possession  of  the  news  of  a  risen 
Saviour  binds  the  possessors  to  be  its  preachers. 
Where  it  is  received  in  any  power,  it  will  impel  to 
utterance.  He  who  can  keep  silence  has  never  felt, 
as  he  ought,  the  worth  of  the  word,  nor  realised  the 
reason  why  he  has  seen  the  Cross  or  the  empty  grave. 
*  He  goeth  before  you  into  Galilee  ;  there  shall  ye  see.' 
It  was  but  two  complete  days  and  one  night  since 
Christ  had  said  to  the  disciples  that  He  would  rise 
again,  and,  as  the  Shepherd  of  the  scattered  flock,  go 
before  them  into  Galilee.  How  long  ago  since  that 
saying  it  would   seem !     The  reasons  for    Matthew's 


vs.  1-15]        THE  PRINCE  OF  LIFE  355 

omission  of  all  the  other  appearances  of  our  Lord  in 
Jerusalem,  with  the  exception  of  the  one  which  im- 
mediately follows,  and  for  the  stress  he  lays  on  this 
rendezvous  in  their  native  Galilee,  have  already  been 
touched  on,  and  need  not  detain  us  now. 

The  next  point  in  the  narrative  is  the  glad  interview 
with  the  risen  Jesus.  The  women  had  been  at  the 
grave  but  for  a  few  moments.  But  they  lived  more  in 
these  than  in  years  of  quiet.  Time  is  very  elastic,  and 
five  minutes  or  five  seconds  may  change  a  life.  These 
few  moments  changed  a,  world.  Haste,  winged  by  fear 
which  had  no  torment,  and  by  joy  which  found  relief 
in  swift  movement,  sent  them  running,  forgetful  of 
conventional  proprieties,  towards  the  awakening  city. 
Probably  Mary  Magdalene  had  left  them,  as  soon  as 
they  saw  the  open  grave,  and  had  hurried  back  alone 
to  tell  the  tidings.  And  now  the  crowning  joy  and 
wonder  comes.  How  simply  it  is  told ! — the  introduc- 
tory •  Behold  ! '  just  hinting  at  the  wonderf  ulness,  and 
perhaps  at  the  suddenness,  of  our  Lord's  appearance, 
and  the  rest  being  in  the  quietest  and  fewest  words 
possible.  Note  the  deep  significance  of  the  name 
•  Jesus '  here.  The  angel  spoke  of  '  the  Lord,'  but  all 
the  rest  of  the  chapter  speaks  of  '  Jesus.'  The  joy  and 
hope  that  flow  from  the  Resurrection  depend  on  the 
fact  of  His  humanity.  He  comes  out  of  the  grave,  the 
same  brother  of  our  mortal  flesh  as  before.  It  was  no 
phantom  whose  feet  they  clasped,  and  He  is  not  with- 
drawn from  them  by  His  mysterious  experience.  All 
through  the  Resurrection  histories  and  the  narrative  of 
the  forty  days,  the  same  emphasis  attaches  to  the 
name,  which  culminates  in  the  angel's  assurance  at  the 
Ascension,  that '  this  same  Jesus,'  in  His  true  humanity, 
who  has  gone  up  on  high  our  Forerunner,  shall  come 


356      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxviii. 

again  our  Brother  and  our  Judge.  '  It  is  Christ  that 
died,  yea  rather,  that  is  risen  again ' ;  but  that  trium- 
phant assurance  loses  all  its  blessedness,  unless  we  say- 
too,  *  Jesus  died  for  our  sins  according  to  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  . .  .  rose  again  the  third  day.' 

Note,  too,  the  calmness  of  His  greeting.  He  uses 
the  common  form  of  salutation,  as  if  He  had  but  been 
absent  on  some  common  occasion,  and  met  them  in 
ordinary  circumstances.  He  speaks  out  of  His  own 
deep  tranquillity,  and  desires  to  impart  it  to  their 
agitated  spirits.  He  would  calm  their  joy,  that  it  may 
be  the  deeper,  like  His  own.  If  we  may  give  any 
weight  to  the  original  meaning  of  the  formula  of  greet- 
ing which  He  employs,  we  may  see  blessed  prophecy 
in  it.  The  lips  of  the  risen  Christ  bid  us  all  'rejoice.' 
His  salutation  is  no  empty  wish,  but  a  command 
which  makes  its  own  fulfilment  possible.  If  our  hearts 
welcome  Him,  and  our  faith  is  firm  in  His  risen  power 
and  love,  then  He  gives  us  a  deep  and  central  gladness, 
which  nothing 

*  That  is  at  enmity  with  joy 
Can  utterly  abolish  or  destroy.* 

The  rush  to  His  feet,  and  the  silent  clasp  of  adoration, 
are  eloquent  of  a  tumult  of  feeling  most  natural,  and 
yet  not  without  turbid  elements,  which  He  does  not 
wholly  approve.  We  have  not  here  the  prohibition  of 
such  a  touch  which  was  spoken  to  Mary,  but  we  have 
substantially  the  same  substitution,  by  His  command, 
of  practical  service  for  mere  emotion.  That  carries  a 
lesson  always  in  season.  We  cannot  love  Christ  too 
much,  nor  try  to  get  too  near  Him,  to  touch  Him  with 
the  hand  of  our  faith.  But  there  have  been  modes  of 
religious  emotion,  represented  by  hymns  and  popular 


vs.  115]        THE  PRINCE  OF  LIFE  357 

books,  which  have  not  mingled  reverence  rightly  with 
love,  and  have  spoken  of  Him,  and  of  the  emotions 
binding  us  to  Him,  in  tones  unwholesomely  like  those 
belonging  to  earthly  passion.  But,  apart  from  that, 
Jesus  taught  these  women,  and  us  through  them,  that  it 
is  better  to  proclaim  His  Resurrection  than  to  lie  at  His 
feet ;  and  that,  however  sweet  the  blessedness  which 
we  find  in  Him  may  be,  it  is  meant  to  put  a  message 
into  our  lips,  which  others  need.  Our  sight  of  Him 
gives  us  something  to  say,  and  binds  us  to  say  it.  It 
was  a  blessing  to  the  women  to  have  work  to  do,  in 
doing  which  their  strained  emotions  might  subside. 
It  was  a  blessing  to  the  mournful  company  in  the 
upper  room  to  have  their  hearts  prepared  for  His 
coming  by  these  heralds.  It  was  a  wonderful  token  of 
His  unchanged  love,  and  an  answer  to  fears  and  doubts 
of  how  they  might  find  Him,  that  He  sends  the  message 
to  them  as  brethren. 

In  the  hurry  of  that  Easter  morning,  they  had  no 
time  to  ponder  on  all  that  it  had  brought  them.  The 
Resurrection  as  the  demonstration  of  Christ's  divinity 
and  of  the  acceptance  of  His  perfect  sacrifice,  or  as 
the  pledge  of  their  resurrection,  or  as  the  type  of  their 
Christian  life,  was  for  future  experience  to  grasp.  For 
that  day,  it  was  enough  to  pass  from  despair  to  joy, 
and  to  let  the  astounding  fact  flood  them  with  sunny 
hope. 

We  know  the  vast  sweep  of  the  consequences  and 
consolations  of  it  far  better  than  they  did.  There  is  no 
reason,  in  our  distance  from  it,  for  its  diminishing  either 
in  magnitude,  in  certitude,  or  in  blessedness  in  our 
eyes.  No  fact  in  the  history  of  the  world  stands  on 
such  firm  evidence  as  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ. 
No  age  of  the  world  ever  needed  to  believe  it  more 


/ 


35»  ^  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxviii. 

than  this  one  does.  It  becomes  us  all  to  grasp  it  for 
ourselves  with  an  iron  tenacity  of  hold,  and  to  echo,  in 
the  face  of  the  materialisms  and  know-nothing  philo- 
sophy of  this  day,  the  old  ringing  confession,  '  Now  is 
Christ  risen  from  the  dead ! ' 

We  need  say  little  about  the  last  point  in  this  narra- 
tive— the  obstinate  blindness  of  the  rulers,  and  their 
transparent  lie  to  account  for  the  empty  grave.  The 
guard  reports  to  the  rulers,  not  to  the  governor,  as  they 
had  been  handed  over  by  Pilate  for  special  service.  But 
they  were  Roman  soldiers,  as  appears  from  the  danger 
which  the  rulers  provided  against,  that  of  their  alleged 
crime  against  military  discipline,  in  sleeping  at  their 
post,  coming  to  his  ears.  The  trumped-up  story  is  too 
puerile  to  have  taken  in  any  one  who  did  not  wish  to 
believe  it.  How  could  they  tell  what  happened  when 
they  were  asleep?  How  could  such  an  operation  as 
forcing  back  a  heavy  stone,  and  exhuming  a  corpse, 
have  been  carried  on  without  waking  them  ?  How 
could  such  a  timid  set  of  people  have  mustered  up 
courage  for  such  a  bold  act  ?  What  did  they  do  it  for  ? 
Not  to  bury  their  Lord.  He  had  been  lovingly  laid 
there  by  reverent  hands,  and  costly  spices  strewn  upon 
the  sacred  limbs.  The  only  possible  motive  would  be 
that  the  disciples  might  tell  lies  about  His  resurrection. 
That  hypothesis  that  the  Resurrection  was  a  deliber- 
ately concocted  falsehood  has  proved  too  strong  for 
the  stomach  of  modern  unbelief,  and  has  been  long 
abandoned,  as  it  had  need  to  be.  When  figs  grow 
on  thistles,  such  characters  as  the  early  Christians, 
martyrs,  heroes,  saints,  will  be  produced  by  a  system 
which  has  a  lie,  known  to  be  one,  for  its  foundation. 
But  the  lame  story  is  significant  in  two  ways.  It  con- 
fesses, by  its  desperate  attempt  to  turn  the  corner  of 


V3.1-15]        THE  PRINCE  OF  LIFE  359 

the  difficulty,  that  the  great  rock,  on  which  all  denials 
of  Christ's  resurrection  split,  is  the  simple  question — If 
He  did  not  rise  again,  what  became  of  the  body?  The 
priests'  answer  is  absurd,  but  it,  at  all  events,  acknow- 
ledges that  the  grave  was  empty,  and  that  it  is  incum- 
bent to  produce  an  explanation  which  reasonable  men 
can  accept  without  laughter. 

Further,  this  last  appearance  of  the  rulers  in  the 
gospel  is  full  of  tragic  significance,  and  is  especially 
important  to  Matthew,  whose  narrative  deals  especially 
with  Jesus  as  the  King  and  Messiah  of  Israel.  This  is 
the  ond  of  centuries  of  prophecy  and  patience !  This  is 
what  all  God's  culture  of  His  vineyard  has  come  to ! 
The  husbandmen  cast  the  Heir  out  of  the  vineyard, 
and  slew  him.  But  there  was  a  deeper  depth  than 
even  that.  They  would  not  be  persuaded  when  He 
rose  again  from  the  dead.  They  entrenched  them- 
selves in  a  lie,  which  only  showed  that  they  had  a 
glimmering  of  the  truth  and  hated  it.  And  the  lie  was 
willingly  swallowed  by  the  mass  of  the  nation,  who 
thereby  showed  that  they  were  of  the  same  stuff  as 
they  who  made  it.  A  conspiracy  or  falsehood,  which 
knew  itself  to  be  such,  was  the  last  act  of  that  august 
council  of  Israel.  It  is  an  awful  lesson  of  the  penalties 
of  unfaithfulness  to  the  light  possessed,  an  awful  in- 
stance of  *  judicial  blindness.'  So  sets  the  sun  of  Israel. 
And  therefore  Matthew's  Gospel  turns  away  from  the 
apostate  nation,  which  has  rejected  its  King,  to  tell,  in 
its  last  words,  of  His  assumption  of  universal  dominion, 
and  of  the  passage  of  the  glad  news  from  Israel  to  the 
world. 


THE  RISEN  LORD'S  GREETINGS  AND  GIFTS 

'  And  as  they  went  to  tell  His  disciples,  behold,  Jesus  met  them,  saying,  All 
hail.'— Matt,  xxviii.  9. 

'  Then  the  same  day  at  evening  .  .  .  came  Jesus  and  stood  in  the  midst,  and 
saith  unto  them.  Peace  be  unto  you.'— John  xx.  19. 

So  did  our  Lord  greet  His  sad  followers.  The  first  of 
these  salutations  was  addressed  to  the  women  as  they 
hurried  in  the  morning  from  the  empty  tomb  bewil- 
dered; the  second  to  the  disciples  assembled  in  the 
upper  room  in  the  evening  of  the  same  day.  Both  are 
ordinary  greetings.  The  first  is  that  usual  in  Greek, 
and  literally  means  •  Rejoice ' ;  the  second  is  that  com- 
mon in  Hebrew.  The  divergence  between  the  two  may 
be  owing  to  the  Evangelist  Matthew  having  rendered 
the  words  which  our  Lord  actually  did  speak,  in  the 
tongue  familiar  to  His  time,  into  their  equivalent  Greek. 
But  whatever  account  may  be  given  of  the  divergence 
does  not  materially  affect  the  significance  which  I  find 
in  the  salutations.  And  I  desire  to  turn  to  them  for  a 
few  moments  now,  because  I  think  that,  if  we  ponder 
them,  we  may  gain  some  precious  lessons  from  these 
Easter  greetings  of  the  Lord  Himself. 

I.  First,  then,  notice  their  strange  and  majestic 
simplicity. 

He  meets  His  followers  after  Calvary  and  the  Tomb 
and  the  Resurrection,  with  the  same  words  with  which 
two  casual  acquaintances,  after  some  slight  absence, 
might  salute  one  another  by  the  way.  Their  very 
simplicity  is  their  sublimity  here.  For  think  of  what 
tremendous  experiences  He  had  passed  through  since 
they  saw  Him  last,  and  of  what  a  rush  of  rapture  and 
disturbance  of  joy  shook  the  minds  of  the  disciples, 
and  then  estimate  the  calm  and  calming  power  of  that 

360 


V.9]  GREETINGS  AND  GIFTS  361 

matter-of-fact  and  simple  greeting.  It  bears  upon  its 
very  front  the  mark  of  truth.  Would  anybody  have 
imagined  the  scene  so  ?  There  have  been  one  or  two 
great  poets  who  might  conceivably  have  risen  to  the 
height  of  putting  such  words  under  such  circumstances 
into  the  mouths  of  creatures  of  their  own  imagination. 
Analogous  instances  of  the  utmost  simplicity  of  ex- 
pression in  moments  of  intense  feeling  may  be  quoted 
from  -^schylus  or  Shakespeare,  and  are  regarded  as 
the  high-water  marks  of  genius.  But  does  any  one 
suppose  that  these  evangelists  were  exceptionally 
gifted  souls  of  that  sort,  or  that  they  could  have 
imagined  anything  like  this — so  strange  in  its  calm, 
so  unnatural  at  first  sight,  and  yet  vindicating  itself 
as  so  profoundly  natural  and  sublime — unless  for  the 
simple  reason  that  they  had  heard  it  themselves,  or 
been  told  it  by  credible  witnesses  ?  Neither  the 
delicate  pencil  of  the  great  dramatic  genius  nor  the 
coarser  brush  of  legend  can  have  drawn  such  an 
incident  as  this,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  the  only 
reasonable  explanation  of  it  is  that  these  greetings  are 
what  He  really  did  say. 

For,  as  I  have  remarked,  unnatural  as  it  seems 
at  first  sight,  if  we  think  for  a  moment,  the  very 
simplicity  and  calm,  and,  I  was  going  to  say,  the 
matter-of-factness,  of  such  a  greeting,  as  the  first  that 
escaped  from  lips  that  had  passed  through  death  and 
yet  were  red  and  vocal,  is  congruous  with  the  deepest 
truths  of  His  nature.  He  has  come  from  that  tre- 
mendous conflict,  and  He  reappears,  not  flushed  with 
triumph,  nor  bearing  any  trace  of  effort,  but  sur- 
rounded as  by  a  nimbus  with  that  strange  tranquillity 
which  evermore  enwrapped  Him.  TSb  small  does  the 
awful  scene  which  He  has  passed  through  seem  to  this 


362     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxviii. 

yL  divine-human  Man,  and  so  utterly  are  the  old  ties  and 
bonds  unaffected  by  it,  that  when  He  meets  His  fol- 
lowers, all  He  has  to  say  to  them  as  His  fi»rst  greeting 
is,  *  Peace  be  unto  you ! ' — the  well-worn  salutation  that 
was  bandied  to  and  fro  in  every  market-place  and  scene 
where  men  were  wont  to  meet.  Thus  He  indicates  the 
divine  tranquillity  of  His  nature ;  thus  He  minimises 
the  fact  of  death ;  thus  He  reduces  it  to  its  true  insig- 
nificance as  a  parenthesis  across  which  may  pass 
unaffected  all  sweet  familiarities  and  loving  friend- 
ships ;  thus  He  reknits  the  broken  ties,  and,  though  the 
form  of  their  intercourse  is  hereafter  to  be  profoundly 
modified,  the  substance  of  it  remains,  whereof  He  giveth 
assurance  unto  them  in  these  His  first  words  from  the 

/dead.  So,  as  to  a  man  standing  on  some  mountain 
plateau,  the  deep  gorges  which  seam  it  become  invisible, 
and  the  unbroken  level  runs  right  on.  So,  there  are  a 
marvellous  proof  of  the  majesty  and  tranquillity  of  the 
divine  Man,  a  glorious  manifestation  of  His  superiority 
over  death  ;  a  blessed  assurance  of  the  reknitting  of  all 
ancient  ties,  after  it  as  before  it,  coming  to  us  from 
pondering  on  the  trivial  words — trivial  from  other  lips, 
but  profoundly  significant  on  His — wherewith  He 
greeted  His  servants  when  He  rose  again  from  the 
dead. 

II.  Then  note,  secondly,  the  universal  destination  of 
the  greetings  of  the  risen  Lord. 

u  I  have  said  that  it  is  possibly  a  mere  accident  that 
we  should  have  the  two  forms  of  salutation  preserved 
for  us  here ;  and  that  it  is  quite  conceivable  that  our 
Lord  really  spoke  but  one,  which  has  been  preserved 
unaltered  from  its  Hebrew  or  Aramaic  original  in 
John,  and  rendered  by  its  Greek  equivalent  by  the 
Evangelist  Matthew. 


V.  9]  GREETINGS  AND  GIFTS  363 

But  be  that  as  it  may,  I  cannot  help  feeling  that 
in  this  fact,  that  the  one  salutation  is  the  common 
greeting  among  Greek -speaking  peoples,  and  the 
other  the  common  greeting  amongst  Easterns,  we 
may  permissibly  find  the  thought  of  the  universal 
aspect  of  the  gifts  and  greetings  of  the  risen  Christ. 
He  comes  to  all  men,  and  each  man  hears  Him,  '  in 
his  own  tongue  wherein  he  was  born,'  breathing  forth 
to  him  greetings  which  are  promises,  and  promises 
which  are  gifts.  Just  as  the  mocking  inscription  on 
the  Cross  proclaimed,  in  *  Hebrew  and  Greek  and 
Latin,'  the  three  tongues  known  to  its  readers,  the  one 
kingdom  of  the  crucified  King — so  in  the  greetings 
from  the  grave,  the  one  declares  that,  to  all  the  desires 
of  eager,  ardent,  sensuous,  joy-loving  Westerns,  and 
all  the  aspirations  of  repose-loving  Easterns,  who  had 
had  bitter  experience  of  the  pangs  and  pains  of  a 
state  of  warfare,  Jesus  Christ  is  ready  to  respond 
and  to  bring  answering  gifts.  Whatsoever  any  com- 
munity or  individual  has  conceived  as  its  highest 
ideal  of  blessedness  and  of  good,  that  the  risen  Christ 
hath  in  His  hands  to  bestow.  He  takes  men's  ideals 
of  blessedness,  and  deepens  and  purifies  and  refines 
them. 

The  Greek  notion  of  joy  as  being  the  good  to  be 
most  wished  for  those  dear  to  us,  is  but  a  shallow  one. 
They  had  to  learn,  and  their  philosophy  and  their 
poetry  and  their  art  came  to  corruption  because  they 
would  not  learn,  that  the  corn  of  wheat  must  be  cast 
into  the  ground  and  die  before  it  bring  forth  fruit. 
They  knew  little  of  the  blessing  and  meaning  of 
sorrow,  and  therefore  the  false  glitter  passed  away, 
and  the  pursuit  of  the  ideal  became  gross  and  foul 
and  sensuous.    And,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Jew,  with 


364     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [cH.xxvin. 

his  longing  for  peace,  had  an  equally  shallow  and 
unworthy  conception  of  what  it  meant,  and  what 
was  needed  to  produce  it.  If  he  had  only  external 
concord  with  men,  and  a  competency  of  outward 
good  within  his  reach  without  too  much  trouble,  he 
thought  that  because  he  'had  much  goods  laid  up 
for  many  years '  he  might  '  take  his  ease ;  and  eat, 
and  drink,  and  be  merry.'  But  Jesus  Christ  comes 
to  satisfy  both  aspirations  by  contradicting  both,  and 
to  reveal  to  Greek  and  Jew  how  much  deeper  and 
diviner  was  his  desire  than  he  dreamed  it  to  be ;  and, 
therefore,  how  impossible  it  was  to  find  the  joy  that 
would  last,  in  the  dancing  fireflies  of  external  satis- 
factions or  the  delights  of  art  and  beauty;  and  how 
impossible  it  was  to  find  the  repose  that  ennobled 
and  was  wedded  to  action,  in  anything  short  of  union 
with  God. 

The  Lord  Christ  comes  out  of  the  grave  in  which 
He  lay  for  every  man,  and  brings  to  each  man's  door, 
in  a  dialect  intelligible  to  the  man  himself,  the  satis- 
faction of  the  single  soul's  aspirations  and  ideals,  as 
well  as  of  the  national  desires.  His  gifts  and  greetings 
are  of  universal  destination,  meant  for  us  all  and 
adapted  for  us  each. 

III.  Then,  thirdly,  notice  the  unfailing  efficacy  of  the 
Lord's  greetings. 

Look  at  these  people  to  whom  He  spoke.  Remember 
what  they  were  between  the  Friday  and  the  Sunday 
morning ;  utterly  cowed  and  beaten,  the  women,  in 
accordance  with  the  feminine  nature,  apparently  more 
deeply  touched  by  the  personal  loss  of  the  Friend  and 
Comforter;  and  the  men  apparently,  whilst  sharing 
that  sorrow,  also  touched  yy  despair  at  the  going  to 
water  of  all  the  hopes  that  they  had  been  buildings 


V.  9]  GREETINGS  AND  GIFTS  365 

upon  His  official  character  and  position.  '  We  trusted 
that  it  had  been  He  which  should  have  redeemed 
Israel,'  they  said,  *  as  they  walked  and  were  sad.'  They 
were  on  the  point  of  parting.  The  Keystone  with- 
drawn, the  stones  were  ready  to  fall  apart.  Then 
came  something — let  us  leave  a  blank  for  a  moment — 
then  came  something ;  and  those  who  had  been  cowards, 
dissolved  in  sorrow  and  relaxed  by  despair,  in  eight- 
and-forty  hours  became  heroes.  From  that  time, 
when,  by  all  reasonable  logic  and  common  sense 
applied  to  men's  motives,  the  Crucifixion  should  have 
crushed  their  dreams  and  dissolved  their  society,  a 
precisely  opposite  effect  ensues,  and  not  only  did  the 
Church  continue,  but  the  men  changed  their  char- 
acters, and  became,  somehow  or  other,  full  of  these 
very  two  things  which  Christ  wished  for  them — namely, 
joy  and  peace. 

Now  I  want  to  know — what  bridges  that  gulf  ?  How 
do  you  get  the  Peter  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  out  of 
the  Peter  of  the  Gospels  ?  Is  there  any  way  of  explain- 
ing that  revolution  of  character,  whilst  yet  its  broad 
outlines  remain  identical,  which  befell  him  and  all  of 
them,  except  the  old-fashioned  one  that  the  som,ething 
which  came  in  between  was  the  Resurrection  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  the  consequent  gift  of  joy  and  peace  in 
Him,  a  joy  that  no  troubles  or  persecutions  could  shake, 
a  peace  that  no  conflicts  could  for  a  moment  disturb  ? 
It  seems  to  me  that  every  theory  of  Christianity  which 
boggles  at  accepting  the  Resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ 
as  a  plain  fact,  is  shattered  to  pieces  on  the  sharp- 
pointed  rock  of  this  one  demand — '  Very  well !  If  it  is 
not  a  fact,  account  for  the  existence  of  the  Church,  and 
for  the  change  in  the  characters  of  its  members.'  You 
may  wriggle  as  you  like,  but  you  will  never  get  a 


366     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.xxviii. 

reasonable  theory  of  these  two  undeniable  facts  until 
you  believe  that  He  rose  from  the  dead.  In  His  right 
hand  He  carried  peace,  and  in  His  left  joy.  He  gave 
these  to  them,  and  therefore  •  out  of  weakness  they 
were  made  strong,  waxed  valiant  in  fight,  turned  to 
flight  the  armies  of  the  aliens,'  and  when  the  time 
came,  '  were  tortured,  not  accepting  deliverance,  that 
they  might  obtain  a  better  resurrection.'  There  is 
omnipotent  efficacy  in  Christ's  greetings. 

The  one  instance  opens  up  the  general  law,  that  His 
wishes  are  gifts,  that  all  His  words  are  acts,  that 
He  speaks  and  it  is  done,  and  that  when  He  desires 
for  us  joy,  it  is  a  deed  of  conveyance  and  gift,  and 
invests  us  with  the  joy  that  He  desires  if  we  observe 
the  conditions. 

Christ's  wishes  are  omnipotent,  ours  are  powerless. 
We  wish  for  our  friends  many  good  things,  and  the 
event  turns  wishes  to  mockery,  and  the  garlands  which 
we  prepared  for  their  birthdays  have  sometimes  to  be 
hung  on  their  tombs.  The  limitations  of  human  friend- 
ship and  of  our  deepest  and  sincerest  wishes,  like  a 
dark  background,  enhance  the  boundless  efficacy  of  the 
greetings  of  the  Master,  which  are  not  only  wishes  but 
bestowments  of  the  thing  wished,  and  therein  given, 
by  Him. 

IV.  So,  lastly,  notice  our  share  in  this  twofold 
greeting. 

When  it  was  first  heard,  I  suppose  that  the  dis- 
ciples and  the  women  apprehended  the  salutation 
only  in  its  most  outward  form,  and  that  all  other 
thoughts  were  lost  in  the  mere  rapture  of  the  sudden 
change  from  the  desolate  sense  of  loss  to  the  glad  con- 
sciousness of  renewed  possession.  When  the  women 
clung  to  His  feet  on  that  Easter  morning,  they  had  no 


V.  9]  GREETINGS  AND  GIFTS  367 

thought  of  anything  but — '  we  clasp  Thee  again,  O  Soul 
of  our  souls.'  But  then,  as  time  went  on,  the  meaning 
and  blessedness  and  far-reaching  issues  of  the  Resurrec- 
tion became  more  plain  to  them.  And  I  think  we  can 
see  traces  of  the  process,  in  the  development  of  Christian 
teaching  as  presented  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  and  in 
the  Epistles.  Peter  in  his  early  sermons  dwells  on  the 
Resurrection  all  but  exclusively  from  one  point  of  view 
— viz.,  as  being  the  great  proof  of  Christ's  Messiahship. 
Then  there  came  by  degrees,  as  is  represented  in  the 
same  Peter's  letter,  and  abundantly  in  the  Apostle 
Paul's,  the  recognition  of  the  light  which  the  Resurrec- 
tion of  Jesus  Christ  threw  upon  immortality;  as  a 
prophecy  and  a  pattern  thereof.  Then,  when  the 
historical  fact  had  become  fully  accepted  and  univer- 
sally diffused,  and  its  bearings  upon  men's  future  had 
been  as  fully  apprehended  as  is  possible  here,  there 
came,  finally,  the  thought  that  the  Resurrection  of 
Jesus  Christ  was  the  symbol  of  the  new  life,  which 
from  that  risen  Lord  passed  into  all  those  who  loved 
and  trusted  Him. 

Now,  in  all  these  three  aspects — as  proof  of  Messiah- 
ship,  as  the  pattern  and  prophecy  of  immortality,  and 
as  the  symbol  of  the  better  life  which  is  accessible  for 
us,  here  and  now — the  Resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ 
stands  for  us  even  more  truly  than  for  the  rapturous 
women  who  caught  His  feet,  or  for  the  thankful  men 
who  looked  upon  Him  in  the  upper  chamber,  as  the 
source  of  peace  and  of  joy. 

For,  dear  brethren,  therein  is  set  forth  for  us  the 
Christ  whose  work  is  thereby  declared  to  be  finished 
and  acceptable  to  God,  and  all  sorrow  of  sin,  all  guilt, 
all  disturbance  of  heart  and  mind  by  reason  of  evil 
passions  and  burning  memories  of  former  iniquity,  and 


368     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW    [ch.xxviii. 

all  disturbance  of  our  concord  with  God,  are  at  once 
and  for  ever  swept  away.  If  Jesus  Christ  was  'declared 
to  be  the  Son  of  God  with  power  by  His  Resurrection 
from  the  dead/  and  if  in  that  Resurrection,  as  is  most 
surely  the  case,  the  broad  seal  of  the  divine  acceptance 
is  set  to  the  charter  of  our  forgiveness  and  sonship  by 
the  blood  of  the  Cross,  then  joy  and  peace  come  to  ua 
from  Him  and  from  it. 

Again,  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ  sets  Him  forth 
before  us  as  the  pattern  and  the  prophecy  of  immortal 
life.  This  Samson  has  taken  the  gates  of  the  prison- 
house  on  His  broad  shoulders  and  carried  them  away, 
and  now  no  man  is  kept  imprisoned  evermore  in  that 
darkness.  The  earthquake  has  opened  the  doors  and 
loosened  every  man's  bonds.  Jesus  Christ  hath  risen 
from  the  dead,  and  therein  not  only  demonstrated  the 
certainty  that  life  subsists  through  death,  and  that  a 
bodily  life  is  possible  thereafter,  but  hath  set  before  all 
those  who  give  the  keeping  of  their  souls  into  His 
hands  the  glorious  belief  that  'the  body  of  their  humilia- 
tion shall  be ' '  changed  into  the  likeness  of  the  body  of 
His  glory,  according  to  the  working  whereby  He  is  able 
even  to  subdue  all  things  unto  Himself.*  Therefore  the 
sorrows  of  death,  for  ourselves  and  for  our  dear  ones, 
the  agitation  which  it  causes,  and  all  its  darkness  into 
which  we  shrink  from  passing,  are  swept  away  when 
He  comes  forth  from  the  grave,  serene,  radiant,  and 
victorious,  to  die  no  more,  but  to  dispense  amongst  us 
His  peace  and  His  joy. 

And,  again,  the  risen  Christ  is  the  source  of  a  new 
life  drawn  from  Him  and  received  into  the  heart  by 
faith  in  His  sacrifice  and  Resurrection  and  glory.  And 
if  I  have,  deep-seated  in  my  soul,  though  it  may  be  in 
imperfect  maturity,  that  life  which  is  hid  with  Christ 


V.9]  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN  369 

in  God,  an  inward  fountain  of  gladness,  far  better  than 
the  effervescent,  and  therefore  soon  flat,  waters  of 
Greek  or  earthly  joy,  is  mine ;  and  in  my  inmost  being 
dwells  a  depth  of  calm  peace  which  no  outward  dis- 
turbance can  touch,  any  more  than  the  winds  that  rave 
along  the  surface  of  the  ocean  affect  its  unmoved  and 
unsounded  abysses.  Jesus  Christ  comes  to  thee,  my 
brother,  weary,  distracted,  care-laden,  sin-laden,  sor- 
rowful and  fearful.  And  He  says  to  each  of  us  from 
the  throne  what  He  said  in  the  upper  room  before  the 
Cross,  and  on  leaving  the  grave  after  it,  *  My  joy  will 
remain  in  you,  and  your  joy  shall  be  full.  My  peace  I 
leave  to  you,  My  peace  I  give  unto  you;  not  as  the 
world  giveth,  give  I  unto  you.* 


ON  THE  MOUNTAIN 

'  Then  the  eleven  disciples  went  away  into  Galilee,  into  a  mountain  where  Jesus 
had  appointed  them.  17.  And  when  they  saw  Him,  they  worshipped  Him :  but) 
Bome  doubted.' — Matt,  xxviii.  16, 17. 

•  After  that,  He  was  seen  of  above  five  hundred  brethren  at  once.'— 1  Cor.  xv.  6. 

To  infer  an  historian's  ignorance  from  his  silence  is  a 
short  and  easy,  but  a  rash,  method.  Matthew  has 
nothing  to  say  of  our  Lord's  appearances  in  Jerusalem, 
except  in  regard  to  that  of  the  women  in  the  early 
morning  of  Easter  Day.  But  it  does  not  follow  that 
he  was  ignorant  of  these  appearances.  Imperfect 
knowledge  may  be  the  explanation ;  but  the  scope  and 
design  of  his  Gospel  is  much  more  likely  to  be  so.  It 
is  emphatically  the  Gospel  of  the  King  of  Israel,  and  it 
moves,  with  the  exception  of  the  story  of  the  Passion, 
wholly  within  the  limits  of  the  Galilean  ministry. 
What  more  probable  than  that  the  same  motive  which 
VOL.  III.  2  A 


370     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxviii. 

induced  Jesus  to  select  the  mountain  which  He  had 
appointed  as  the  scene  of  this  meeting  should  have 
induced  the  Evangelist  to  pass  by  all  the  other  mani- 
festations in  order  to  fix  upon  this  one  ?  It  was  fitting 
that  in  Galilee,  where  He  had  walked  in  lowly  gentle- 
ness, '  kindly  with  His  kind,'  He  should  assume  His 
sovereign  authority.  It  was  fitting  that  in  *  Galilee 
of  the  Gentiles,'  that  outlying  and  despised  province, 
half  heathen  in  the  eyes  of  the  narrow-minded 
Pharisaic  Jerusalem,  He  should  proclaim  the  widening 
of  His  kingdom  from  Israel  to  all  nations. 

If  we  had  Matthew's  words  only,  we  should  suppose 
that  none  but  the  eleven  were  present  on  this  occasion. 
But  it  is  obviously  the  same  incident  to  which  Paul 
refers  when  he  speaks  of  the  appearance  to  'five 
hundred  brethren  at  once.'  These  were  the  Galilean 
disciples  who  had  been  faithful  in  the  days  of  His  low- 
liness, and  were  thus  now  assembled  to  hear  His  pro- 
clamation of  exaltation.  Apparently  the  meeting  had 
been  arranged  beforehand.  They  came  without  Him 
to  'the  mountain  where  Jesus  had  appointed.'  Pro- 
bably it  was  the  same  spot  on  which  the  so-called 
Sermon  on  the  Mount,  the  first  proclamation  of  the 
King,  had  been  delivered,  and  it  was  naturally  chosen 
to  be  the  scene  of  a  yet  more  exalted  proclamation.  A 
thousand  tender  memories  and  associations  clustered 
round  the  spot.  So  we  have  to  think  of  the  five 
hundred  gathered  in  eager  expectancy  ;  and  we  notice 
how  unlike  the  manner  of  His  coming  is  to  that  of  the 
former  manifestations.  Then,  suddenly.  He  became 
visibly  present  where  a  moment  before  He  had  been 
unseen.  But  now  He  gradually  approaches,  for  the 
doubting  and  the  worshipping  took  place  *  when  they 
saw  Him,'  and  before  '  He  came  to  them.'    I  suppose 


vs.  16, 17]        ON  THE  MOUNTAIN  371 

we  may  conceive  of  Him  as  coming  down  the  hill  and 
drawing  near  to  them,  and  then,  when  He  stands  above 
them,  and  yet  close  to  them — else  the  five  hundred  could 
not  have  seen  Him  '  at  once ' — doubts  vanish ;  and  they 
listen  with  silent  awe  and  love.  The  words  are  majestic ; 
all  is  regal.  There  is  no  veiled  personality  now,  as 
there  had  been  to  Mary,  and  to  the  two  on  the  road  to 
Emmaus.  There  is  no  greeting  now,  as  there  had  been 
in  the  upper  chamber  ;  no  affording  of  a  demonstration 
of  the  reality  of  His  appearance,  as  there  had  been  to 
Thomas  and  to  the  others.  He  stands  amongst  them 
as  the  King,  and  the  music  of  His  words,  deep  as  the 
roll  of  thunder,  and  sweet  as  harpers  harping  with 
their  harps,  makes  all  comment  or  paraphrase  sound 
thin  and  poor.  But  yet  so  many  great  and  precious 
lessons  are  hived  in  the  words  that  we  must  rever- 
ently ponder  them.  The  material  is  so  abundant  that 
I  can  but  touch  it  in  the  slightest  possible  fashion.  This  j 
great  utterance  of  our  Lord's  falls  into  three  parts  :  a 
great  claim,  a  great  commission,  a  great  promise. 

I.  There  is  a  Great  Claim. 

'  All  power  is  given  unto  Me  in  heaven  and  in  earth.' 
No  words  can  more  absolutely  express  unconditional, 
unlimited  authority  and  sovereignty.  Mark  the 
variety  of  the  gift — '  all  power ' ;  every  kind  of  force, 
every  kind  of  dominion  is  in  His  hands.  Mark  the  sphere 
of  sovereignty  —  'in  heaven  and  in  earth.'  Now, 
brethren,  if  we  know  anything  about  Jesus  Christ,  we 
know  that  He  made  this  claim.  There  is  no  reason, 
except  the  unwillingness  of  some  people  to  admit  that 
claim,  for  casting  any  sort  of  doubt  upon  these  words, 
or  making  any  distinction  in  authority  between  them 
and  the  rest  of  the  words  of  graciousness  which  the 
whole  world  has  taken  to  its  heart.     But  if  He  said 


372     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.xxviii. 

this,  what  becomes  of  His  right  to  the  veneration  of 
mankind,  as  the  Perfect  Example  of  the  self-sacrific- 
ing, self-oblivious  religious  life  ?  It  is  a  mystery  that  I 
cannot  solve,  how  any  man  can  keep  his  reverence  for 
Jesus,  and  refuse  to  believe  that  beneath  these  tre- 
mendous words  there  lies  a  solemn  and  solid  reality. 

Notice,  too,  that  there  is  implied  a  definite  point  of 
time  at  which  this  all-embracing  authority  was  given. 
You  will  find  in  the  Revised  Version  a  small  alteration 
in  the  reading,  which  makes  a  great  difference  in  the 
sense.  It  reads,  •  All  power  has  been  given ' ;  and  that 
points,  as  I  say,  to  a  definite  period.  When  was  it 
given  ?  Let  another  portion  of  Scripture  answer  the 
question — '  Declared  to  be  the  Son  of  God  with  power, 
by  the  resurrection  from  the  dead.'  Then  to  the  Man 
Jesus  was  given  authority  over  heaven  and  earth. 
All  the  early  Christian  documents  concur  in  this  view 
of  the  connection  between  the  death  and  resurrection 
of  Jesus  Christ,  and  His  investiture  with  this  sovereign 
power.  Hearken  to  Paul,  'Became  obedient  unto 
death,  even  the  death  of  the  Cross ;  wherefore  God 
also  hath  highly  exalted  Him,  and  given  Him  a  name 
that  is  above  every  name.'  Hearken  to  Peter,  'Who 
raised  Him  from  the  dead  and  gave  Him  glory.' 
Hearken  to  the  writer  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews, 
'  We  see  Jesus  crowned  with  glory  and  honour  for  the 
suffering  of  death.'  Hearken  to  John,  •  To  Him  that  is 
the  Faithful  Witness,  and  the  First-born  from  the  dead, 
and  the  Prince  of  the  kings  of  the  earth.'  Look  with 
his  eyes  to  the  vision  of  the  '  Lamb  as  it  had  been 
slain,'  enthroned  in  the  midst  of  the  throne,  and 
say  whether  this  unanimous  consent  of  the  earliest 
Christian  teachers  is  explicable  on  any  reasonable 
grounds,  unless  there  had  been  underlying  it  just  the 


vs.  16, 17]        ON  THE  MOUNTAIN  373 

words  of  our  text,  and  the  Master  Himself  had  taught 
them  that  all  power  was  given  to  Him  in  heaven  and 
in  earth.  As  it  seems  to  me  impossible  to  account  for 
the  existence  of  the  Church  if  we  deny  the  Resurrec- 
tion, so  it  seems  to  me  impossible  to  account  for  the 
faith  of  the  earliest  stratum  of  the  Christian  Church 
without  the  acceptance  of  some  such  declaration  as 
this,  as  having  come  from  the  Lord  Himself.  And  so 
the  hands  that  were  pierced  with  the  nails  wield  the 
sceptre  of  the  Universe,  and  on  the  brows  that  were 
wounded  and  bleeding  with  the  crown  of  thorns  are 
wreathed  the  many  crowns  of  universal  Kinghood. 

But  we  have  further  to  notice  that  in  this  investi- 
ture, with  '  all  power  in  heaven  and  on  earth,'  we  have 
not  merely  the  attestation  of  the  perfection  of  His 
obedience,  the  completeness  of  His  work,  and  the  power 
of  His  sacrifice,  but  that  we  have  also  the  elevation  of 
Manhood  to  enthronement  with  Divinity.  For  the 
new  thing  that  came  to  Jesus  after  His  resurrection 
was  that  His  humanity  was  taken  into,  and  became 
participant  of, '  the  glory  which  I  had  with  Thee,  before 
the  world  was.'  Then  our  nature,  when  perfect  and 
sinless,  is  so  cognate  and  kindred  with  the  Divine 
that  humanity  is  capable  of  being  invested  with, 
and  bearing,  that  '  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of 
glory.'  In  that  elevation  of  the  Man  Christ  Jesus,  we 
may  read  a  prophecy,  that  shall  not  be  unfulfilled,  of 
the  destiny  of  all  those  who  conform  to  Him  through 
faith,  love,  and  obedience,  finally  to  sit  down  with  Him 
on  His  throne,  even  as  He  is  set  down  with  the  Father 
on  His  throne. 

Ah!  brethren,  Christianity  has  dark  and  low  views 
of  human  nature,  and  men  say  they  are  too  low  and 
too  dark.    It  is  '  Nature's  sternest  painter,'  and,  there- 


374      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.xxviii. 

fore,  'its  best.'  But  if  on  its  palette  the  blacks  are 
blacker  than  anywhere  else,  its  range  of  colour  is 
greater,  and  its  white  is  more  lustrous.  No  system 
thinks  so  condemnatorily  of  human  nature  as  it  is; 
none  thinks  so  glowingly  of  human  nature  as  it  may 
become.  There  are  bass  notes  far  down  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  scale  to  which  ears  dulled  by  the  world 
and  sin  and  sorrow  are  sensitive ;  and  there  are  clear, 
high  tones,  thrilling  and  shrilling  far  above  the  range 
of  perception  of  such  ears.  The  man  that  is  in  the 
lowest  depths  may  rise  with  Jesus  to  the  highest,  but 
it  must  be  by  the  same  road  by  which  the  Master 
went.  •  If  we  suffer  with  Him,  we  shall  also  reign 
with  Him,'  and  only  *  if.'  There  is  no  other  path  to 
the  Throne  but  the  Cross.  Via  crucis,  via  lucis — the 
way  of  the  Cross  is  the  way  of  light.  It  is  to  those 
who  have  accepted  their  Gethsemanes  and  their  Cal- 
varys  that  He  appoints  a  kingdom,  as  His  Father  has 
appointed  unto  Him. 

So  much,  then,  for  the  first  point  here  in  these  words ; 
turn  now  to  the  second. 

II.  The  Great  Commission. 

One  might  have  expected  that  the  immediate  infer- 
ence to  be  drawn  from  '  All  power  is  given  unto  Me  in 
heaven  and  in  earth '  would  have  been  some  word  of 
encouragement  and  strengthening  to  those  who  were 
so  soon  to  be  left,  and  who  were  beginning  to  be  con- 
scious of  their  feebleness.  But  there  is  nothing  more 
striking  in  the  whole  of  the  incidents  of  those  forty 
days  than  the  prominence  which  is  given  in  them  to 
the  work  of  the  Church  when  the  Master  had  left  it, 
and  to  the  imperative  obligations  devolving  upon  it. 
And  so  here,  not  encouragement,  but  obligation  is  the 
inference  that  is  drawn  from  that  tremendous  claim. 


vs.  16,17]        ON  THE  MOUNTAIN  875 

*  Because  I  have  all  power,  therefore  you  are  charged  y 
with  the  duty  of  winning  the  world  for  its  King.' 
The  all-ruling  Christ  calls  for  the  universal  proclama- 
tion of  His  sovereignty  by  His  disciples.  These  five 
hundred  little  understood  the  sweep  of  the  command- 
ment, and,  as  history  shows,  terribly  failed  to  appre- 
hend the  emancipating  power  of  it.  But  He  says  to  \ 
us,  as  to  them,  '  I  am  not  content  with  the  authority  1 
given  to  Me  by  God,  unless  I  have  the  authority  that 
each  man  for  himself  can  give  Me,  by  willing  surrender 
of  his  heart  and  will  to  Me.'  Jesus  Christ  craves  no 
empty  rule,  no  mere  elevation  by  virtue  of  Divine 
supremacy,  over  men.  He  regards  that  elevation  as 
incomplete  without  the  voluntary  surrender  of  men  to 
become  His  subjects  and  champions.  Without  its 
own  consent  He  does  not  count  that  His  universal 
power  is  established  in  a  human  heart.  Though  that  y 
dominion  be  all-embracing  like  the  ocean,  and  stretch- 
ing into  all  corners  of  the  universe,  and  dominating 
over  all  ages,  yet  in  that  ocean  there  may  stand  up 
black  and  dry  rocks,  barren  as  they  are  dry,  and 
blasted  as  they  are  black,  because,  with  the  awful 
power  of  a  human  will,  men  have  said,  '  We  will  not 
have  this  Man  to  reign  over  us.'  It  is  willing  subjects 
whom  Christ  seeks,  in  order  to  make  the  Divine  grant 
of  authority  a  reality. 

In  that  work  He  needs  His  servants.  The  gift  of 
God  notwithstanding,  the  power  of  His  Cross  notwith- 
standing, the  perfection  and  completeness  of  His  great 
reconciling  and  redeeming  work  notwithstanding,  all 
these  are  vain  unless  we.  His  servants,  will  take 
them  in  our  hands  as  our  weapons,  and  go  forth  on 
the  warfare  to  which  He  has  summoned  us.  This  is 
the  command  laid  upon  us  all,  '  Make  disciples  of  all 


376      GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxviii. 

nations.'     Only  so  will  the  reality  correspond  to  the 
initial  and  all-embracing  grant. 

It  would  take  us  too  far  to  deal  at  all  adequately, 
or  in  anything  but  the  most  superficial  fashion,  with 
the  remaining  parts  of  this  great  commission.  *  Make 
disciples  of  all  nations ' — that  is  the  first  thing.  Then 
comes  the  second  step  :  '  Baptizing  them  into  the  name 
of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost.' 
Who  are  to  be  baptized  ?  Now,  notice,  if  I  may  venture 
upon  being  slightly  technical  for  a  moment,  that  the 
word  '  nations '  in  the  preceding  clause  is  a  neuter  one, 
and  that  the  word  for  'them'  in  this  clause  is  a  mas- 
culine, which  seems  to  me  fairly  to  imply  that  the 
command  '  baptizing  them '  does  not  refer  to  •  all 
nations,'  but  to  the  disciples  latent  among  them,  and 
to  be  drawn  from  them.  Surely,  surely  the  great 
claim  of  absolute  and  unbounded  power  has  for  its 
consequence  something  better  than  the  lame  and 
impotent  conclusion  of  appointing  an  indiscriminate 
rite,  as  the  means  of  making  disciples  !  Surely  that 
is  not  in  accordance  with  the  spirituality  of  the 
Christian  faith ! 

'  Baptizing  them  into  the  Name ' — the  name  is  one, 

that  of  the  Father,  and  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Spirit. 

'    Does  that  mean  the  name  of  God,  and  of  a  man,  and 

of  an  influence,  all  jumbled  up  together  in  blasphemous 

and  irrational  union?      Surely,  if  Father,  Son,    and 

Holy  Spirit  have  one  name,  the  name  of  Divinity,  then 

it  is  but  a  step  to  say  that  three  Persons  are  one  God ! 

I  But  there  is  a  great  deal  more  here  than  a  baptismal 

{  formula,  for  to  be  baptized  into  the  Name  is  but  the 

!  symbol  of  being  plunged  into   communion  with  this 

1  one  threefold  God  of  our  salvation.    The  ideal  state  of 

the  Christian  disciple  is  that  he  shall  be  as  a  vase 


vs.  16, 17]        ON  THE  MOUNTAIN  377 

dropped  into  the  Atlantic,  encompassed  about  with 
God,  and  filled  with  Him.  We  all '  live,  and  move,  and 
have  our  being '  in  Him,  but  some  of  us  have  so  wrapped 
ourselves,  if  I  may  venture  to  use  such  a  figure,  in 
waterproof  covering,  that,  though  we  are  floating  in  an 
ocean  of  Divinity,  not  a  drop  finds  its  way  in.  Cast  the 
covering  aside,  and  you  will  be  saturated  with  God,  and 
only  in  the  measure  in  which  you  live  and  move  and 
have  your  being  in  the  Name  are  you  disciples. 

There  is  another  step  still.  Making  disciples  and 
bringing  into  communion  with  the  Godhead  is  not  all 
that  is  to  flow  from,  and  correspond  to,  and  realise 
in  the  individual,  the  absolute  authority  of  Jesus 
Christ — '  Teaching  them  to  observe  all  things  whatso- 
ever I  have  commanded  you.'  We  hear  a  great  deal  , 
in  these  days  about  the  worthlessness  of  mere  dogmatic  \/ 
Christianity.  Jesus  Christ  anticipated  all  that  talk, 
and  guarded  it  from  exaggeration.  For  what  He  tells 
us  here  that  we  are  to  train  ourselves  and  others  in, 
is  not  creed  but  conduct ;  not  things  to  be  believed  or 
credenda  but  things  to  be  done  or  agenda — 'teaching 
them  to  observe  all  things  whatsoever  I  have  com- 
manded you.'  A  creed  that  is  not  wrought  out  in 
actions  is  empty ;  conduct  that  is  not  informed,  pene- 
trated, regulated  by  creed,  is  unworthy  of  a  man,  not 
to  say  of  a  Christian.  What  we  are  to  know  we  are 
to  know  in  order  that  we  may  do,  and  so  inherit  the 
benediction,  which  is  never  bestowed  upon  them  that 
know,  but  upon  them  that,  knowing  these  things,  are 
blessed  in,  as  well  as  for,  the  doing  of  them. 

That  training  is  to  be  continuous,  educating  to  new 
views  of  duty;  new  applications  of  old  truths,  new 
sensitiveness  of  conscience,  unveiling  to  us,  ever  as  we 
pUwb,  uew  heights  to  which  we  aspire,    Tha  Christiau 


378     GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MATTHEW  [ch.  xxviii. 

Church  has  not  yet  learnt — thank  God  it  is  learning, 
though  by  slow  degrees — all  the  moral  and  practical 
implications  and  applications  of  *  the  truth  as  it  is  in 
Jesus.'  And  so  these  are  the  three  things  by  which 
the  Church  recognises  and  corresponds  to  the  universal 
dominion  of  Christ,  the  making  disciples  universally ; 
the  bringing  them  into  the  communion  of  the  Father, 
the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and  the  training  of 
them  to  conduct  ever  approximating  more  and  more  to 
the  Divine  ideal  of  humanity  in  the  glorified  Christ. 

And  now  I  must  gather  just  into  a  sentence  or  two 
what  is  to  be  said  about  the  last  point.    There  is — 

III.  The  Great  Promise. 

'T  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the 
world,'  or,  as  it  might  be  read,  *  with  you  all  the  days, 
even  to  the  accomplishment  of  the  age.'  Note  that 
emphatic  *  I  am,'  which  does  not  only  denote  certainty, 
but  is  the  speech  of  Him  who  is  lifted  above  the  lower 
regions  where  Time  rolls  and  the  succession  of  events 
occurs.  That  *  I  am  '  covers  all  the  varieties  of  was,  is, 
will  be.  Notice  the  long  vista  of  variously  tinted  days 
which  opens  here.  Howsoever  many  they  be,  howso- 
ever different  their  complexion,  days  of  summer  and 
days  of  winter,  days  of  sunshine  and  days  of  storm, 
days  of  buoyant  youth  and  days  of  stagnant,  stereo- 
typed old  age,  days  of  apparent  failure  and  days  of 
apparent  prosperity.  He  is  with  us  in  them  all.  They 
change,  He  is  '  the  same  yesterday,  and  to-day,  and  for 
ever.'  Notice  the  illimitable  extent  of  the  promise — 
*  even  unto  the  end.'  We  are  always  tempted  to  think 
that  long  ago  the  earth  was  more  full  of  God  than  it 
is  to-day,  and  that  away  forward  in  the  future  it  will 
again  be  fuller,  but  that  this  moment  is  comparatively 
empty.    The  heavens  touch  the  earth  on  the  horizon 


vs.  16. 17]        ON  THE  MOUNTAIN  379 

in  front  and  behind,  and  they  are  highest  and  remotest 
above  us  just  where  we  stand.  But  no  past  day  had 
more  of  Christ  in  it  than  to-day  has,  and  that  He  has 
gone  away  is  the  condition  of  His  coming.  '  He  there- 
fore departed  for  a  season,  that  we  might  receive  Him 
for  ever.' 

But  mark  that  the  promise  comes  after  a  command, 
and  is  contingent,  for  all  its  blessedness  and  power, 
upon  our  obedience  to  the  prescribed  duty.  That  duty 
is  primarily  to  make  disciples  of  all  nations,  and  the 
discharge  of  it  is  so  closely  connected  with  the  realisa- 
tion of  the  promise  that  a  non-missionary  Church 
never  has  much  of  Christ's  presence.  But  obedience  to 
all  the  King's  commands  is  required  if  we  stand  before 
Him,  and  are  to  enjoy  His  smile.  If  you  wish  to  keep 
Christ  very  near  you,  and  to  feel  Him  with  you,  the 
way  to  do  so  is  no  mere  cultivation  of  religious  emotion, 
or  saturating  your  mind  with  religious  books  and 
thoughts,  though  these  have  their  place ;  but  on  the 
dusty  road  of  life  doing  His  will  and  keeping  His  com- 
mandments. •  If  a  man  love  Me  he  will  keep  My  words, 
and  My  Father  will  love  Him.  We  will  come  to  Him, 
and  make  our  abode  with  Him.' 


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The  Gospel  according  to  St.  Matthew. 


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